


Never wanted you, yet you're the best thing to ever happen to me.

by HaruK



Series: You're the best thing to happen to me. [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, BAMF Peter Parker, Child Abuse, Hurt Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony is a scientist/engineer, genius starks, just give it time, tony becomes a good dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-08-17 14:10:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16517972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaruK/pseuds/HaruK
Summary: (Modern, Non-Superhero AU)Tony Stark is many things. Genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist, alcoholic, lonely, jack-assA father should not be one of them.Yet, once he received a call that says his ex-lover is dead, and that her dying wish was for him to look after her- their son, a child he didn't know he had, for one month, he can do nothing but comply.It'll be fine. Just 31 days of looking after another human being. Another, intelligent, kind, adorable human being. He wont grow attached, no way. 31 days and he can send Peter off to any orphanage of his choosing.And then, he can go back to being the regular Tony Stark.A father no one should have.





	1. Chapter 1

Tony Stark. Billionaire, playboy, genius, philanthropist, alcoholic, the ‘merchant of death’,

Father. 

One of those things is not like the others. 

Tony Stark, emotional wreck and a self destructive individual, was a father. 

Granted, he didn't know he was one until a few hours ago. He was passed out on his sofa, his alcohol induced high reducing as his body was slowly pulling him into sleep, before his phone started blaring. He groaned, reaching into his pocket and turned it off without looking who the number was from. Almost immediately, it started to ring again. With a frustrated huff, Tony grabbed the device to switch it off, but frowned when he saw the number.    
It was from the police.

He hadn't done anything that warranted him getting thrown in jail (again), he had no family, his parents being long dead (and he celebrated enough to know that was real) so it wasn't any personal emergency. His only closest friends, Rhodey and Pepper, weren't even in the states so why would his local police station be calling him?

Maybe they got the wrong number.

“Hello?” he rasped out, picking up the call.

“Tony Stark?” a man's voice replied.

So much for that theory.

“Yes, this is he.” Tony said, sitting upright. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to rile himself up for this conversation.

“Good Evening Mister Stark, my name is Officer Coulson.” the man informed, “I’m calling you with some important information. Are you familiar with a woman named Mary Parker?”

Tony’s breath hitched. Mary. God he hadn't thought about her in a long, long time. Granted, the things he associated with their time together were never good things. If his life was shitty now, six years ago, things were way worse. Mary was an employer of his and on day one of her job, he managed to seduce and sleep with her. Unfortunately, his attraction for her slowly diminished once he got to know her. It was a dark period in his life, one filled with cigarettes and cocaine. Mary was an addict through and through and she had an obsession with making him one as well. To an extent, she succeed, try as he might, he couldn't give up the alcohol, but the other drugs and such were never really his thing. Yet, he was smitten with her, and more than once, he found himself passed out with her next to him, cocaine under his nose and a smile on his face. Their relationship lasted only for a month, with Tony having to fire her when she tried to attack Pepper. Potts, lovely, sweet Pepper Potts, was the one who convinced him to drop the drugs. Even if he wasn't one for doing it, he sure as hell enjoyed it and once Pepper sat him down and made him realize how fucked up things were, how he’s doing things he doesn't want to do. When she managed to bat her eyelashes and fix him with a 'you continue this and ill shove your own foot up your ass' glare, he complied. 

Needless to say, it worked, he cut Mary out of his life and managed to quit the drugs. It was tough, even if he wasn't addicted per say. He had a few relapses, of course. There were times he called Mary, times where he got his hands on drugs again, but in every instance, Pepper or Rhodey were by his side, pulling him through it.

“Yes.” He replied, “I knew her.”

“She’s dead.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Wow. What happened?”

“She jumped out the window of her apartment. Fell down seven stories.”

“Fuck.” Tony whispered, wide awake now.

“Initial assessment pointed at suicide, but we ran some tests, and turns out she was incredibly hopped on some drugs which probably was a factor of her death.”

“Right…So why are you calling me?”

“I’m sorry?” Coulson replied, sounding genuinely confused, which just confused Tony in turn.

“Why’re you calling me? Sure, Mary and I had a relationship but i haven't seen or heard from her in six years. Is it new police protocol to inform every single being involved in a dead person's life?”

Coulson paused for a second before responding, “...We called because of her son.”

_ Son?  _

The officer continued, “Peter Parker. Five and a half, almost six years old. We found him in the apartment. Luckily, he was in his room and didn't see anything, but he’s still pretty shaken.”

Damn. Poor kid. Then again, if Mary was as shit faced as she was before, Tony doubted she made a terrific enough mother to be missed. 

“So? Why are you calling me?”

“We found Mary’s will, in it, she specified that she wanted you to take care of Peter for a month after which-”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, hold up.” Tony interrupted, “Take care of him,  _ what? _ You’re shitting me right? Where’s the kids father, shouldn't he be the one responsible?”

A pause, “You are his father, Mr. Stark.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

That’s how Tony Stark wound up in the hospital, waiting for the police to patch him through to his...son.

They brought him up to speed. Peter Parker was born on the 7th of July, nine months after Tony had fired Mary. She ended up having the baby, without informing Tony in any way. They even offered to take a DNA test to confirm it, which Tony accepted. He was a bit sceptical.

He ignored the looks people were shooting him. The famous Tony Stark in the hospital? The press were going to have a field day. He can only imagine what their reaction would be if they found out about his Son. Their fucking heads would explode.

Tony chuckled at that idea, a sense of satisfaction passing through him at the image, before one of horror. 

His Son.

He had a son. A young boy. Peter Parker. His child. His flesh and blood. And, according to Coulson, he was to raise this tiny, impressionable child.

No way in hell. Not for Tony’s sake, but for the kids sake. Tony Stark was the last person alive who should be a father and he was going to prove it. All he wanted to do, was make sure the kid is actually his, decline the offer to raise him, ship him off to an orphanage with a credit card in his pocket (because while tony is not a father, he certainly is rich and it wouldn't hurt to make the kids life a bit easier) and never think about this again. 

“Mr Stark?” a familiar voice called out. Tony looked to where it came from, and watched as Officer Coulson reached his side. “I can take you to meet Peter now, if you’re ready.”

What? No, no, no, no, he wasn't going to do that! It’s much easier for him to disassociate himself from this kid. It will make things easier when he sends him away.

“No, I think i’m good.” Tony simply said instead, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

Coulson frowned at that, “I guess I haven't really explained the terms of Mary’s Will, have I?”

“You mentioned something about her wanting me to take him in for a moth but-”

“Not ‘wanting’, Mr.Stark,” Coulson interrupted, “Demanding. This was her last wish, her death wish. It was for you to be Peter’s parent for a whole month. She  _ guarantees _ , that once you get to know him, you won't want to let him go. But, in the case that you do, she has given you permission to send him away. However, that will only be allowed after you have him for a month.”

“If I refuse?”

“Then we release this incident to the press.”

Tony cursed inwardly. He can see the headlines now, ‘ _ Monstrous Tony Stark refuses to look after his son’ ‘Stark Junior Junior shipped to an orphanage because Tony Stark is the shit of the Earth.’ _

“You can’t do that.” Tony objected weakly. 

“We won’t have to if you comply.”

He sighed heavily, wishing for a drink, “Fine.” he agreed with a groan, “I’ll take in the little guy. But i’ll have you know, I am no father figure, so whatever happens to this kid, it’s on you.”

Coulson looked him up and down, unimpressed, “Spoken like a true parent.”

If Tony wasnt so tired from his drinking and this whole situation, he might have punched the guy. 

However, he opted to follow the man to meet his...Son.

~~~~~

They made their way to the children's aisle of the hospital. Coulson quickly motioned to a particular room before he opened the door and walked in. Tony’s heart was beating heavily. This was it.

“Hey Peter,” he heard Coulson say with a gentleness he couldn't fathom coming out of the officer, “Feeling ok?” Tony didn't hear a reply, but going by Coulson's “That’s good.” he assumed the kid just nodded. 

“I have someone here who wants to see you.”

That was his cue.

With a deep breath, Tony tried his best to channel that inner persona. Kids went crazy for his snarky, know-it-all act. Fixing the sunglasses on his nose and perfecting the creases on his (hastily put on) suit, Tony entered the room. 

By the floor, playing with a bunch of Lego’s, was a boy. Peter.

He was small and skinny, (way too skinny) a bunch of brown, unruly curls on his head and a pair of doe brown eyes, similar to his own. He sported jeans, a white t-shirt and a green jacket, all of which looked like they hadn't been washed in a while. His white shoes were almost black and were completely worn out. Tony winced at the sight.

“I’ll leave you two alone. Peter, just give me a call if you need me, i’ll be right outside.”

Peter nodded at the man who was crouched by his side. With a smile, the officer got up and left the room, giving Tony a curt nod of ‘good luck’.

This felt awkward.

Peter was staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

“So, what you building over there?” he asked, slowly walking towards the boy.

Peter smiled slightly, gesturing to his Lego’s, “a robot.”

“Robots, huh? You know, i’ve built quite a few myself, mind if I sit?” 

Peter shook his head and Tony sat down beside him, unbuttoning his suit jacket to make himself more comfortable. 

“Real robots or Lego ones?”

“Real, working robots.” Tony confirmed with pride, “I have a few of them roaming my house. There’s one in particular i’ve called DUM-E because...well, he’s a dummy.”

Peter giggled at that, showing off a toothy grin and Tony’s heart clenched. The kid was missing a front tooth, yet that was the cutest smile he had ever seen. 

“Can you show me?” Peter asked, pushing the Lego’s over to Tony.

He smiled, “Sure kid. Want to help out?”

And with that, Tony found himself building a Lego DUM-E with his son. As they were building, Tony asked Peter a few questions, to get the kid comfortable and for them to open up to each other. He asked questions he already knew, getting Peter familiar with him.

Finally, when they were nearly finished with building, Tony asked, “Do you know who I am, Peter?”

The child nodded, “You’re Tony Stark. You build and invent stuff. I saw you on TV once.”

“Is that right?”

“Yup. Until mom broke it.”

Tony paused, mortified, “Your mom...broke the TV? Why?”

The kid shrugged, “I guess she didn't want to see you, considering you’re my dad.”

And just like that, the whole world froze.

Tony was silent for a good 20 seconds before he found his voice again. “So you know about that, huh?”

Peter nodded, focused on his Lego’s almost like this was a simple, casual conversation. “Mom never tried to hide it from me. There’s a dartboard at home with your face on it.”

Tony flinched.

“She also has pictures of you to do her drugs on. She basically had a lot of pictures of you.”

 “Flattering.” Tony said, sarcastically, noting the fact that Peter was a witness to his mother’s drug abuse. “Did she tell you anything about me?”

“Not really.”

“....So do you know why i’m here?”

“To look after me for a month and then send me away.”

“Exactly.” Tony marveled. He wasn't one for sugarcoating, so why try to deny the second statement? Easier for them both if they go into this knowing the outcome. “You’re a smart cookie aren't you? How did you know that?”

“I overheard the policeman talking about it.”

“So, how do you feel about it?”

“Does it matter?” the kid said softly, still working on the Lego’s.

“It does, actually. A child’s safety and preference comes first in these situations.”

Peter paused for a minute then spoke up, “I think i would like to live with you, Mr.Stark. It’s what mom wanted.”

Tony nodded, conflicted. A part of him was disappointed that Peter wanted to live with him, because if he didn't want to, there’s no way they would force him. But he was also kind of happy, Peter was an interesting kid.

“Alright then, i’ll let Coulson know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you stick around.  
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter moved in the very next day. It didn't take long, as a direct relative, it made sense for Tony to have custody on the child. The authorities came by his place to make sure it was safe for a kid. It didn't take long for them to approve him. They side eyed the massive alcohol cabinet, but were content with the fact that Tony had it number locked (He had very expensive stuff in there, kid or no kid, he wasn't going to leave it unguarded). Same went for his lab.

At the end of the day, there was a toddler in Tony’s house.

Peter for the most part, seemed thoroughly unimpressed with the whole situation. If anything, he looked tired, so Tony sympathized. Once all the police and officials had left, Tony directed his son to the guest bedroom.

“But I want to look around!” Peter protested, stifling a yawn.

Tony chuckled, “You’ll get to see it tomorrow kid, clearly it’s past your bedtime.”

Peter pouted, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Will you show me?”

Tony paused, “Sure kid.”

Peter smiled at that, allowing Tony to direct him to his room. The kid didn't have any luggage, just one small suitcase of old clothes, so Tony easily picked it up as well. 

“ _ This _ is my room?” Peter asked once they reached it. Tony had opened the door and lightly pushed the kid in, dropping his bag on the floor.

“Yup.” the adult said, “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s huge!” Peter gasped, excitedly. Faster than Tony could see, Peter had slipped off his shoes, sprinted and took a massive leap before falling face first onto the soft, plush cushions of his bed. He heard the kid squeal in excitement, kicking his tiny legs, before he got onto his feet and started jumping up and down, laughing. 

“Join me Mr.Stark!” he yelled, his hair flopping around.Tony tried not to laugh at that absurd request. If anyone else, he would have snapped a crude remark, if it was a woman, he would have made a sex joke, but this was a kid. He didn't know how to handle kids.

“I’ll pass.” he said simply. 

Peter frowned, his jumping slowed down.

_ Good _ . Tony thought,  _ don't assume i’m going to be a good parent. _

“Your clothes are in here.” Tony said, kicking slightly at the bag by his feet, “Bathroom is in there for you to wash up. Go to sleep soon, ok?”

Before the kid could reply, Tony quickly exited the room, shutting the door behind him. 

He was going to get a drink.

~~~~~

Tony groaned as the sunlight hit his face. With way too much effort, he turned his head away from the light and almost screamed in pain from the feeling on his neck. It was stiff and hurt like a mother fucker when he turned his head. Then again, falling asleep on your table with your head in your hands is bound to do that to your body. Deciding to wake up completely, Tony straightened himself up, hissing at the discomfort. He slowly started to stretch his limbs, grimacing as the knots in his muscles started to unwind, causing him more pain. 

Once he was finished, he placed his hands back on the table and opened his eyes slightly. What he was met with was an array of empty bottles and a pile of broken glass by his foot. He usually doesn't drink so much that he blacks out, but with everything going on, his alcohol dependence skyrocketed. He probably knocked the glass down while he was sleeping.

“Mr. Stark?” a high pitched voice suddenly called out, making Tony jump. The voice, coupled with the screeching of his chair due to the movement shot a sharp pain right through Tony’s head.

He groaned, cupping his temples as he tried to make the throbbing stop.

“Are- Are you ok?”

“Shhhh!” Tony shushed, waiting for his headache to subside, he then whispered, “speak softly for a bit, ok?”

“...Ok.” Peter whispered back.

Tony took a few seconds to get his bearings before he turned to his kid, squinting (he couldn't really fully open his eyes just yet) “What are doing up so early, kid?”

“Um…” Peter mumbled, “It’s ten in the morning.”

“Yeah, so like, really early.”

Peter didn't say anything to that, not sure if it was a joke or not, and honestly, Tony didn't know either.

“So what’s up, Kid?” Tony asked.

“I’m hungry.” Peter replied.

“Oh.” Food. Shit. Tony never cooked food. It was either take away or when Rhodey or Pepper came by to cook and force feed him a home cooked meal.

Fuck. He really shouldn't be looking after a kid.

However, he really didn't have an option now. He was in no state to cook anything from the limited knowledge he had, so home delivery it is. 

Tony pulled out his phone, turning to Peter, “What’re you in the mood for?”

Peter smiled, “Pancakes!” he said, a bit too loudly. Tony winced in pain and Peter looked shocked, “Sorry.” he whispered.

“Ok.” Tony mumbled, “Pancakes it is.” he dialed in the number of the local food joint, holding the phone a bit of a distance away from his ear.

_ “Hello, this is Barton’s pancake house, how can we-” _

 “Here Peter.” Tony handed the phone over to the child, “Order whatever you like.”

“Really?” Peter asked, wide eyed.

“Sure. Knock yourself out. Just tell them to send it to Tony’s house.” He would be a dead man if it wasn't for this shop feeding him for years.

Peter nodded and started to talk to the person on the phone. While he did that, Tony got off his chair and made his way to the kitchen. Because if there’s one thing Tony Stark loves more than his alcohol, its coffee. 

He sighed in relief at the relaxing activity, moaning as the sweet scent of coffee wafted through the air. 

“Mr. Stark?”

And just like that, the relaxation was gone. 

Tony turned towards the kid who slowly lifted up the phone, “They say they want to talk to you.”

He sighed, grabbing the phone from him. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Tony.”

Tony smiled, Clint was a piece of shit but he was a fun guy to talk to.

“What’s up?”

“You kidnap a kid or something?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because i’ve been serving you for five years and not once have you bought food for anyone but yourself.”

“Well, i have not kidnapped a child, he’s…” Tony looked over at Peter, the boy looking up at him with those giant, bright eyes, “my nephew.”

Peter frowned but Tony just ignored him.

“Nephew huh? That’s nice. What’s his name?”

“What’s with the interrogation here, Clint? Don’t you have some food to bring over?”

“Oh right, see you soon!” with that, he hung up.

Tony rolled his eyes, putting the phone back in his pocket. 

Peter spoke up, “Why did you tell that man i’m your nephew?”

Tony finished making his coffee, taking a big sip, sighing. He turned to look at the kid, “Because the World isn’t ready for the fact that I have a son. Besides, the DNA test will come back today, so i’ll know for sure if you’re my son or not.”

An angry look passed the kid’s face. Seems like that’s the common expression when they’re together. “My mom told me i’m your son!”

“Yeah well, I knew your mom a lot better than you did, I wouldn't hold her to be the perfect truth teller.”

An ugly silence passed over the room. Tony all but walked away, coffee in hand, but when he saw tears threatening to fill the kid’s eyes, his resolve broke. 

With a heavy sigh, Tony placed his empty cup into the sink before he crouched down, eye leveled with the child.

“...I’m sorry.” Tony apologized, not wanting Peter to cry, “It’s a difficult time for both of us, i’m a little high strung, and sometimes, I can be a bit rude. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” 

Peter’s expression conveyed that he was touched by the apology, but not really buying it. He mumbled something so softly, Tony would have easily missed it if he was caught unguarded:

“Bet drinking yourself to death helps with the nerves.”

Tony was flabbergasted, “Excuse me, young man!”

Just then, the bell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Peter yelled, sprinting away. Tony just stared at his back. What a snarky little kid! 

Peter had reached the front door and managed to open it, “Hello.” he said.

“Um...hi?” a voice replied, a voice Tony immediately recognized as his best friend, Rhodey. 

“Rhodes!” Tony called out, making his way to the door, a spring in his step. He always loved the mans visits. 

“Hey Tony,” Rhodey replied with a forced smile, eyes never leaving Peter’s as he entered the house. “Who's this little guy?”

Peter answered instead, “I’m his  _ nephew _ ” adding a little flare to the last word. Ok, this kid was way too sassy.

“Nephew?” Rhodey repeated with a frown, “That’s...odd. Tony doesn't have any living relatives.” Damn best friend knew everything about him, “What’s going on?”

Tony sighed, clearly hiding this from Rhodes wasn’t possible. 

“Rhodey.” he said, gesturing to the kid, “Meet Peter Parker.”

“Parker?” the man repeated eyes wide, he looked down at Peter, “You’re Mary’s kid.” 

The child nodded, “She died.”

“Oh damn, i’m sorry.” 

Tony interrupted, “So, i’m now looking after Peter.”

Rhodey frowned, “That doesn't make sense...Why would you be taking care of him if-” he paused, “How old are you Peter?”

“Five and a half.”

“Oh.” Rhondey said, eyes wide as he pieced everything together. He was always a very smart man, “Stark Junior Junior.”

“Ugh.” Tony grimaced, “don't make that a thing. Want some coffee?”

“Oh, no thanks.” but he wasn't focused on Tony anymore, he had bent down, looking Peter in the eye.

“Hey Peter.” he said sweetly, with a charm Tony had never seen, “I’m Rhodey, it’s nice to meet you.” he stuck his hand out and Peter took it, smiling, “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“My, aren't you polite. You sure he’s yours Tony?”

“Oh, Shut up.” 

“Hey, does this mean i’m a Godfather?”

“Bold to assume i’d pick you.”

“I’m the only other friend you have, who else would you pick? You know, you’re dads not very big on people.”

“I know.” Peter replied, tossing Tony a look. 

Rhodey chuckled at that, “I already like you Peter. I can tell we’re going to be good friends.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “If you’re done chumming up, why’re you here?”

“Right.” Rhodey said, remembering why he showed up, “I’m here to take you to the meeting.”

“Meeting?”

“Of course you forgot. You’re supposed to show your latest designs to my bosses.”

“Oh shit, that was today?” 

“Yup. And i’m not letting you arrive three hours late like last time.”

Tony groaned, “But I can’t leave now, i have to look after Peter.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine on his own for an hour or two, right Pete?” Rhodey bent down and picked up the kid, and Peter went along with it willingly. It looked quite cute actually, with Peter perched on Rhodey’s hip. Made Tony realize he’s never actually picked the kid up himself. 

“Sure.” Peter said with more confidence than Tony was ok with. How often did he stay home alone?

“...You sure you can’t postpone the meeting?” Tony tried again. 

“It’s just a few hours Tones.” 

He frowned, looking at Peter, “You sure kid?”

Peter nodded.

“Ok, let me just get dressed.” however, he paused for a second before leaving the room, “Peter, will you come with me for a second? I need to show you something.”

Eyebrows raised, the kid wiggled his way out of Rhodey’s hands and followed him as they both left the room. 

Even Tony knew it was a bad idea to leave a toddler at home, unguarded. Even more so if the home was a mansion. Tony didn't even get around to showing the kid the tower, so Lord knows he doesn't want to come back home and find Peter missing in some abandoned corner. 

So he decided it made sense to introduce him to Jarvis.

~~~~~

Peter was ecstatic.

Sure, he was bummed that Mr.Stark was just going to leave him in this house, but he understood that he had a job and he needed to leave, so he wasn’t too upset. 

Mr.Rhodey seemed quite nice, he even picked Peter up. He couldn't remember the last time someone did that.  

Then, Mr.Stark introduced him to an AI, Jarvis. 

When they entered his room, Mr.Stark clapped his hands twice and then, almost like the house came alive, there was a light humming noise surrounding the air before a voice called out, “Good Morning Mr.Stark.”

“Woah!” Peter exclaimed, shocked. He jumped towards Tony by instinct, clinging onto his pant leg. Thankfully, he didn't push him off.

“Hey Jarvis,” Tony said looking up at the ceiling, “Meet the new member of our family. This is Peter, say hello.”

“Hello there, Peter, it’s nice to meet you.”

Peter shuddered, clutching Tony’s pant tighter. The older seemed to realize that the kid was slightly scared, and after a moment's hesitation, he placed a comforting hand on his head.

“W-Who’s talking?” Peter asked. 

“My AI.”

“AI?”

“Artificial Intelligence. Jarvis is a program I created, kind of like Siri but a hundred times more efficient. He basically runs this whole house.”

Peter didn't know what a Siri was, but decided to say nothing.

“Jarvis will be with you all the time when i’m not around, ok? So if you want food, have an emergency or if you want to call me, just let Jarvis know and he will do it for you.”

“Cool.” Peter marveled, looking up at the ceiling, almost like Jarvis was living there. But from what he understood, Jarvis wasn't a real person.

Tony continued, “Jarvis will take care of you when i’m not here. If he catches you doing something unreasonable, he will contact me, so don't try and do anything crazy, ok?”

“Like what?”

Tony paused. He hadn't really set any rules down so Peter didn't know what he was and wasn't allowed to do in this house. 

“Um...well, we’ll figure out concrete rules when I get back, but for now, stay away from my lab and stay out of the kitchen.”

“Because that’s where your drinks are?” 

Tony frowned. He didn't like it when Peter mentioned his drinking, “Also knives and cooking gas, don't want you to end up with missing fingers.”

Peter nodded, “When will you be back?”

“Rhodey said a few hours, hopefully he isn’t lying to me, so I should be back soon.”

“You promised to show me around the house.”

“I know kid.” 

Suddenly, the bell of the house rang, “Ah! That must be your breakfast. Why don’t you go on and start eating, I need to dress up for my meeting.”

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Peter bonding coming up! Thanks for reading and i hope you stick around!  
> Tony's mentality is all over the place right now. He's conflicted between not wanting a son, but his instinctive parental instincts are coming out because deep down, Tony is a good dad.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets his shit together.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache making its way. It was already past noon, and Tony was still another half an hour away from home. Thankfully, Rhodey was correct when he said it would only take a few hours to finish up. The people loved him, of course, how could they not? He dressed in one of his finest suits, gelled his hair to perfection and wore his signature sunglasses. One of his assistants, Happy, had already packed every weapon he was going to showcase. All he had to do when they reached, was get off the car, look suave and sophisticated, put on that know it all, cockyness that everyone loved and dazzle them with his inventions, which is exactly what he did. 

The men loved it, excited by the spectacle that is Tony Stark and his weapons. Rhodey’s boss was particularly pleased, and already put forth a shit ton of money to buy Tony’s supply. 

Tony was leaving, money in his bank and a smile on his face until Rhodey stopped him. He assumed it was just to thank him for his work, like he usually does, but instead he said:

“Tony, Peter seems like a good kid, and I know you think you’re doing the both of you a favor by distancing yourself and by being a jackass, but that’s simply not true. Don’t be another Howard.”

Howard Stark.

Tony hadn't thought about him in years.

His parents had Tony when they were quite old in life, so already, there was a massive generation gap that made it difficult for them to relate to each other. His mother, while all hugs and kisses and kindness and was easily his favorite woman ever, could never really talk to him about the important things. She never scolded him for misbehaving as a child, always showered him with gifts and praise, and while that seemed amazing as a kid, it’s when he grew older that Tony realized, that’s not how you raise an adequate member of society.  His father on the other hand, was the complete opposite of his mother. The times where he was actually around, not once did he hear the man praise his Son. No matter what Tony did, what he accomplished in life, it was never enough. MIT, highest in his class, born genius, created the first ever highly proficient AI, it was never enough. Tony spent his whole life working hard to gain his father’s approval, just one, ‘Good job Son’. But then the man went ahead and died, taking his mother with him, and now Tony will never get that closure. 

He’s a failure, and his father made sure he knew that.

Tony couldn't do that to his son.

During his bathroom break, Tony received a call from Coulson: “The tests came back Mr.Stark, you are undoubtedly Peter’s father.” he then asked a few more questions about how they were adjusting and once he received an answer, he hung up.

Peter was his boy. 

His child. His Son.

He had called Jarvis every half hour to check up and make sure Peter was ok. So far, things were going fine and Peter was on his best behavior. That in itself, is a very un-Stark like thing to do, then again, Peter wasn’t raised as a Stark, he was raised as a Parker. 

Once Coulson hung up, Tony made a decision, then and there. He was going to stop being a dick to his son. When (if) he sends Peter off to foster care, he doesn't want to send away the hurt child that he is now. He needs to know that there are people out there who will care for him, who will look after him. Five years, he’s lived with a druggie and basically had to raise himself. Tony didn't even know half the story of what Peter had been through, but he knew enough. Peter was too self sufficient for a child, he needed to know that there are people he could depend on, or else...or else he might end up like his father. 

Sure, if Tony opens up and raises Peter with kindness, he might grow attached, but that was a risk he was willing to take. Why should his preference compromise the emotional stability of his child? At the end of the day, there is only one parent he misses, and it sure as hell isn't the neglectful father, the kind of father he’s been behaving as.

He wasn't going to be another Howard. 

Tony Stark is a broken man.

But he’d be damned if he'd let Peter be one too. 

~~~~~

“I’m home!” Tony called out, once he entered the house.

_“Welcome back, Mr.Stark.”_ Jarvis replied, politely, _“I trust your meeting went well?”_

“You bet. How’s the kid?”

_ “Mr.Parker is doing fine. He’s currently in the kitchen, eating his lunch.” _

Tony looked at his watch: 1PM. That was a bit late for lunch, but whatever, as long as he’s eating. 

He walked in stride towards the kitchen, excited and nervous. What was he going to now? If he’s going to try and be a good father, what should he do?

But before he could answer those questions, he reached the kitchen and froze. Peter was sitting on the counter...massive tubs of ice cream in front of him. 

“Hey, Mr.Stark!” Peter yelled, excited. His mouth was smeared with chocolate ice cream, a giant wooden spoon in hand. 

“Hey...Pete.” Tony said, slightly shocked by the image. He looked over at the table and saw that one of the ice cream tubs was already empty, and judging by how far Peter had to reach into the one he was holding to get more, he was almost done with a second one. “Jarvis told me you were having your lunch.”

“This is my lunch!” Peter yelled again.

“What!?” Tony exclaimed, taking off his sunglasses dramatically “You had ice cream for lunch!?”

“And some cake!” Peter yelled back, clearly on a sugar high.

“Oh, absolutely not.” Tony rushed forward and took the tub away from Peter, ignoring the boys protests. “You can't have only ice cream for lunch, and certainly not this much!”

“Why?”

“Why? Because it’s not good for you! Jarvis! How could you let him buy only desserts?”

_ “Mr. Stark hadn’t specified any protocol that forbade me from doing so.” _

“Oh Christ, ok, come on Peter, let’s get you cleaned up.” Tony reached for Peter, picking him up and off the counter, “Then maybe take a nap, sleep off that sugar high.”

“No!” Peter protested at that, wiggling in Tony’s arms. His leg shot out and kicked tony on his side. The man grunted in pain, his grip loosening, and this gave Peter enough to wiggle his way out. He dropped to the floor and quickly ran to the other side of the room. 

Tony glared at him, eyes wide, “You just kicked me!”

“I’m sorry!” the boy yelled, lightly hopping on his feet, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, i- i’m fine, kid. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“But I don't wanna sleep! I wanna play!” he was jumping up and down now.

“Ok, if you sleep now, we’ll play together once you wake up.” Tony tried to bargain. He had reached a hand out, beckoning the child towards him. 

Peter’s jumping slowed for a few seconds, his head tilted to the side cutely as he mulled it over. A huge grin then came over his face: “You have to catch me first!” and he turned around and bolted out of the room.

“W- Peter!” Tony yelled, sprinting after him. 

He could hear his sons laughter echoing through the halls as he chased him. For a kid who just reached Tony’s thighs, he was incredibly fast and agile. Peter quickly ran to the staircase that was a path to the bottom floor, and to Tony’s horror, instead of going down the stair, he had quickly sat on the railings and slid himself down with an excited scream. Tony reached the staircase a second after, letting out a sigh when he saw that Peter reached the floor safely and was now, quickly running away. Tony took the stairs, reaching the floor in a few seconds. They were now in his spacious living room, with Peter a few feet away from him.

“Peter Parker, if you get ice cream stains on any of my things, you’re grounded.” Tony warned, glancing at all his expensive furniture. Not that he really cared, he has dirtied quite a few of them himself, but he wasn't in the mood to be cleaning any messes. 

Peter just giggled in response (he also clenched his hands into fists, so that the things he touches wouldn't get stained, Tony appreciated that), “You still have to catch me!” he sang.

Tony quickly sprinted again, loosing his balance for a minute (curse these business heels and smooth wooded floors) before catching himself. Peter laughed and ran away, making his way towards the giant sofa in the middle of the room. 

“Aha!” Tony yelled with a smile, “I’ve got you now!” He was standing on one side of the Sofa, while Peter was on the other.

“Not yet!” 

Tony quickly moved around the sofa, to finally finish this, but Peter was quicker, moving away. When Tony moved right, Peter did too, when he moved left, Peter moved left as well. Like a piece of clock work. 

They did this for about five minutes, Peter squealing and laughing everytime Tony was close to nabbing him, and without him realizing, Tony was laughing too. His heart was beating wildly, there was this feeling in his chest, this wonderful, giddy feeling. He was having fun.

Finally, they with back to their original positions, both of them panting loudly. Tony was by the back of the couch, and Peter was by the front. 

Quickly, faster than Peter could comprehend, Tony reached forward, throwing his torso over  the back and reached his hand out. 

“Got you!” He yelled in triumph, as his grabbed a handful of Peter’s jacket. 

Unfortunately, Peter was quicker. He immediately shimmied the clothing off and ducked under the sofa. Because of his position, Tony wasn't able to react quickly enough, and watched as Peter jumped up from the other side of the couch, having crawled underneath it. Walked out right between his legs. 

Tony straightened himself up, watching Peter run a bit of a distance between them before he turned around and stuck his tongue out at Tony in a taunt.

“Ok,” Tony said, with a grin, “Now it’s personal.” He bent down and took of his shoes, followed by his socks. His flexed his toes, getting used to the sensation of wood on his skin, before he started running after the kid, considerable faster than before now that his shoes were not slowing him down. 

Peter’s eyes widened and didn't waste a second in running away, clearly surprised by how fast his father was. They were still in the living room, there being enough space to still run in, but  Peter saw a hallway and ran into it. Tony was right behind him, so Peter picked up the pace. 

He reached the end, was about to round the corner but froze. There was a robot standing in front of him. Not really a robot, more like a moving crane, but still moving independently nonetheless.

Peter squinted his eyes, feeling like he knew this robot from somewhere before he gasped, “You’re DUM-E!” 

And as soon as he said that sentence, a weight crashed into him. 

“Gotcha!” Tony yelled, grasping onto his boy and lifting him into the air. He twirled around, both of them laughing as he spun them around, before the back of his thighs hit something and he fell, Peter secure in his arms. His back made contact with a soft cushion and Tony realized he had fallen on his couch. 

Without wasting a second he wanted to extract out his revenge. Peter’s back was on his chest, and using his leverage, he started to tickle the boy.

“Ack! No! Stop!” Peter yelled, squealing.

“This is what you get!” Tony replied, laughing as he mercilessly tickled the child. Peter was squirming in his grasp, but it didn't matter, none of his limbs made any contact with Tony. 

“Sure wish you had your coat with you, huh?” Tony taunted, his fingers nimbly tickling Peter’s sides and his stomach. 

Peter was cackling now, his laughter echoing through the air and Tony loved it. 

“You want me to stop?” Tony asked, making his way upto Peters ribs now. If anything, the boy started laughing even louder.

“Yes!”

“Say please.”

“Please!”

“Now tell me i’m the best.”

“You’re the best! Stop!” 

Tony slowed down and finally stopped his tickling, deciding to have mercy on the kid. Peter panted heavily, sighing as the torment was over. He plopped his head against Tony’s chest, using his father like he’s a bed. Tony placed a few pat’s on Peter’s chest, calming him down. He could feel his erratic heartbeat and no doubt, Peter could feel his too. It took them about ten minutes to completely calm down, the adrenaline fading, excitement leaving the air.

Tony looked down at his son. His eyes were closed, his chubby cheeks flushed slightly pink. His hair was a total mess and there were still traces of chocolate around his mouth. Tony smiled at the cuteness and couldn't help but place a soft kiss on Peter’s curls. Peter opened his eyes, looking up at Tony for a second before he smiled. He pushed himself up, sitting on Tony’s stomach, which the adult didn't mind.

“Where are we, anyway?”

He looked around, There were tables and tables full of blueprints, equipment, tools and such. Holographic images were on display, casting a blue hue over the entire room.

“This is my lab.” Tony replied.

“Cool.” Peter said, in awe.

Before he could ask for a preview, Tony pushed himself up slightly. His legs were thrown over the arm of the couch, and his torso was propelled just enough to not crush the kid, but also making sure he wouldn't jump off and escape again. 

“How about you take that nap of yours now, and once you wake up, i’ll give you that tour I promised?”

“Really?” Tony nodded, “Ok!”

With a smile, and a steady arm over Peter’s stomach, Tony got off the couch, lifting the kid with him. He adjusted their positions so he was now properly carrying the kid. Peter placed his face securely on Tony’s shoulder, his tiny hands hugging his neck. His curls tickling Tony’s face, but the adult allowed it, walking out of the lab, across the living room, up the stairs, through the kitchen, before he finally made it to the rooms. He opened the door to the guest room where Peter was staying in and slowly deposited the kid onto the bed. He smiled when he saw that Peter was already out cold, seems like running around was the best way to get rid of a sugar high. He opened one of the drawers and took out the box of tissues that were kept in. Grabbing a few, he walked into the bathroom to wet it, before he came back over to Peter, softly wiping the dried ice cream off his face and hands. After which, he quickly tucked the child in, finishing off with draping a blanket over him. Seeing him so comfortable made Tony let out a yawn. Maybe he needed a nap too. He was about to leave before he noted the clothes Peter was wearing. Run down, brown shirt with a pair of equally run down jeans. He needed to buy the kid some new clothes. 

He left the room, closing the door slowly behind him.

“Good night, Peter.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May Parker answers a lot of questions.  
> DISCLAIMER: Depictions of abuse.

~~~~~

“I’m hungry.” 

Tony looked up from the book he was reading, his attention diverted to his son. Peter was sitting on the dining table, colouring pictures in a book. The kid had woken up quite quickly, sleeping for less than an hour, which Tony assumed might be enough for a nap. Tony had quickly taken him on the house tour, the kid already having seen most of it. Tony was a billionaire and he showed that off, his house no short of a mansion. It took them around half an hour to finish the tour, Peter showing the most interest in his lab, which prompted the elder to lay down some non-negotiable ground rules:

  1. No entering the lab on his own, only if Tony is with him.
  2. No playing in the lab.
  3. Don’t touch anything in the lab unless Tony gives him the green light.
  4. If he wants to try out the equipment or tools, there’s only a very limited number he can use, and only with Tony’s supervision. 
  5. If Tony is working, Peter is not allowed into the lab at all.
  6. He’s also not allowed into Tony’s bedroom alone, considering he’s a workaholic and often keeps working on projects even in his room, so there’s no short of dangerous equipment lying around. 
  7. Jarvis will also act as a guardian, but Peter can’t abuse that power or Tony will be notified.



For now, these were the most important rules that he implemented. Peter was a self-reliant kid, so he wasn't too keen on laying down many rules. 

Tony looked at the time, 6 PM. 

“What do you want to eat?” he asked Peter, getting off the couch he was on, “I can ask Jarvis to order us some food.”

Peter paused, thinking it over in his head before he said, “Can we have home food?”

Tony froze, his mouth opening slightly.  He didn't know how to cook, nor did he have any groceries to cook with. 

Peter seemed to catch on, “...we could go buy groceries now and I can cook us something”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “You can cook?” What five year old can cook?

Peter nodded, “I used to cook for mom all the time.”

A pang of pain stabbed Tony’s heart. Mary was probably too high on drugs to do anything

“No.” Tony said with confidence, “I’m the Dad here, i’m going to cook you food.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up, a bit surprised by the outburst, but Tony was determined. They still had some time, they could quickly drop by the nearest supermarket to buy some ingredients and he could buy Peter something light to munch on. Not like he was busy or anything anyway, besides, how hard would cooking be? He can build a bomb powerful enough to decimate a small village in his sleep, cooking will be no problem. 

“Come on, let’s go shopping.”

~~~~~

“Can I get this?”

“No.”

“But why?”

“Because i’m already getting you one tub of icecream, and that enough.”

Peter pouted, scrunching his nose. “But I want this one.”

“Then keep this one back.” Mr.Stark said, gesturing to the chocolate ice cream in the trolley.

Frowning, Peter considered his choices before he turned around and walked back to keep the Vanilla ice cream back. Chocolate was better.

He saw Mr.Stark stifle a laugh before he went back to his adult stuff, like looking through vegetables and fruits. He had one hand on his phone, sifting through it. Peter managed to get a glimpse of it, he wasn't sure, but he swore he saw the words, “How to know which fruits are good” being googled. 

He placed the tub back where he found it, saying goodbye before he walked back to his dad. 

Tony smiled as he came by, “Hey, Pete. Can you do me a favor?”

Peter nodded.

“Can you go find out where the condiments aisle is? This place is a maze.”

Peter paused, “What are condimunts?”

Tony chuckled, “Condi- _ ments _ . They’re things like salt and ketchup and stuff.”

“Oh! Ok.”

“And when you find it, could you bring back a bottle of ketchup and mustard please?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks buddy. But don’t go too far, ok?”

Peter nodded before he toddled off, determined to find the aisle. He always found shopping for food boring when he wasn't allowed to fill the cart with sweets and junk. His mother wasn't like Mr.Stark, she would allow him to get whatever he wanted, no questions. People used to toss them looks, whispers of, ‘it’s not healthy to give him that much sugar’ but they ignored it. Until Peter was sent to the dentist because of a massive toothache, after which, his mother refused to buy his sweets because the dentist appointment was too expensive. 

Mr.Stark was different though. At the beginning, Peter was indifferent to him, tethering on the emotion of disliked. He was snarky and rude and didn't seem to care. But then he started to change, treating Peter nicely. Peter had so much fun today, when they ran around the house. His mother never used to do that, so his idea of fun was to sit in his room with his three toys and try to ignore the screaming and smells coming from outside. Tony was even determined to cook, something Peter knew he didn't know how to do. He was still snarky, but not in a mean way plus, he made robots which was super cool. 

“Condiments….condiments…” Peter muttered before he finally found it, grinning brightly. He walked down the aisle, his head scanning the shelves before he found what he was looking for. There was a bottle of ketchup on one of the higher shelves. He reached his hand up, but was too short to reach it. Even on his tiptoes, he was just short of even touching it. He wondered how appropriate it would be if he scaled the shelves, hoping he wouldn't get chastised for climbing them. 

He placed one foot on the bottom shelf, before a shadow loomed over him, a hand reaching out the take the ketchup bottle and gave it over to Peter who grabbed it. 

“How about you ask someone for help before you decide to climb shelves?”

Peter looked up. It was a woman. She was wearing a blue tank top with baggy red pants, her long, brown hair was pushed to one side, stylishly. She sported glasses that were a bit too big for her face, but it suited her. 

She looked...familiar.

Turns out, she felt the same way too. 

A frown crossed her features as they met eyes, before she gasped, taking a small step back.

“Peter?” She asked cautiously, hand over her chest like she needed to calm down.

He didn't respond, his brain whirring as he tried to place her.

“Peter Parker?” she asked again, quickly squatting down to reach Peter’s eye level, “Do you remember me? I’m-”

“May.” Peter interrupted, finally remembering, “You’re mom’s sister.”

~~~~~

May Parker hated her sister with a burning passion. 

Even when they were kids, there was always something wrong with her. 

She was one of those genius kids, a one in a million intellectual, with the capabilities to bring about some good change in the world. 

Unfortunately, that was something Mary couldnt handle. 

Her brain was...too fast for her, always on the move, always thinking of something, never shutting up and from a young age, it drove her crazy. 

So she tried out ways in which to make it stop, to make her brain slow down and unfortunately, that always involved putting herself in harm's way. 

She wasn't suicidal, she didn't want to die...she just wanted it to be quite.

The first thing she tried, was running into a busy street, and almost getting hit by a car. 

The car swerved, crashing into a lightpost, barely missing her.

Their parents were terrified, convinced it was an accident, crying as they held her close, babbling and thanking God for keeping her safe. No one except May saw the grin on her face as people were coddling her.

Later, Mary told her: “The only thing my brain was thinking of was me and the car. It was amazing May! For once, my head shut up!”

And she did it again, and again, and again. She would put herself into near death situations and backing out before she got killed. Cars, Rivers, Alleyways, that was the only way she could focus on one thing at a time, and not the millions of thoughts constantly floating in her head. 

One time she roped May into it as well. Mary was eight while May was four, they had trekked up the tiny hill that surrounded their house. They ran after each other, giggling until they reached a small cliff. Mary had brought May forward, hands grasping her shoulders tightly as they both carefully looked over the edge. It was not too high, but if a child were to fall from that height, the consequences could be lethal. May remembered being scared, and tried to back away, but her sister held her there, her grip tightening. 

“Isn't this amazing?” she had asked, looking over the edge, dreamily, “It’s just you...and the world.”

Faster than she could imagine, May was suddenly being pushing off the cliff. 

Time seemed to slow as the world toppled on its head. May was too shocked to even scream, before she felt a tight grip on her ankle before she fell. 

The air was pushed out of her lungs, as the grip on her leg kept her from tumbling down. But May was now hanging upside down, moments away from injury, only being held by her sister.

Then the screaming started.

“Oh, shut up, shut up!” Mary had yelled, annoyed by her sisters screams and cries, “Keep crying and I let go.”

That made May stop, tears streaming down her face, her eyes trailing the droplets as they collided with the ground below her.

“This,” Mary said, “Is what I mean May. Right here, right now, you’re only thinking of three things, yourself, my grip on you...and death.”

May started heaving again, terrified as her body started to swing slightly. 

“You’re not thinking of your family, or friends, or school, or homework, you’re not thinking of the universe or the way gravity works or whatever whatever whatever.” she continued, “Here, you’re focused, here, you have control.” 

Clearly she didn't. 

With that, Mary hauled her sister up, placing her back on solid ground before May had bolted away, running and screaming. 

Their parents had been appalled by what Mary had done and decided it was time for her to get psychiatric treatment. 

But nothing worked. 

As she grew older, Mary grew more unstable. The therapy and the medication, only seemed to make it worse. 

As she grew older, she grew smarter and figured out what amazing things her brain could do. 

As she grew older, she kept throwing herself into dangerous situations, only this time, it wasnt cars, but drugs. 

May was older too, training to become a doctor and she has lost count as to how many times Mary had ended up in the hospital.

“Why do you work in this dump?” Mary had asked her once, after her stomach was pumped, “I doubt they’re paying you much.” May was a nurse at that time. 

May didn't say anything, opting to simply ignore her comments. The years had crippled their relationship and May found it easier to just pretend like she never had a sister to begin with.

Unfortunately, try as she might, it was not that simple. 

Mary had one day, wound up on her doorstep, tears streaming down her face, a hand over her stomach as she babbled out a quick, “I’m pregnant.”

Mary had a lot of things, money, a good house, good job, but she never had company. 

So May was the only person in her life who could help. 

She took her in. 

She remembered that night clearly. She handed Mary a cup of tea, both of them drinking it slowly as she explained her situation. 

Tony Stark was the father, she admitted, she laughed at what kind of a baby two sociopaths might produce, and May didn't try to correct her. 

“So are you going to tell him?” 

“...No.”

“Oh...you're aborting it?”

A long pause, “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“So you’re doing this? You’re having the baby?”

“It’s quiet.”

May slammed her cup onto the table so hard the whole thing shattered. 

“Fuck off with that bullshit!” she had yelled, while Mary stared at her, “You cannot use your baby as a means to an end, I dont give a flying  _ fuck _ if your brain is quiet, a baby is a responsibility, a responsibility, you are nowhere near functional enough to have! If you have this baby, with the intention of getting your brain to shut up, it’s not going to work, you’re going to ruin your life and more importantly, the babies life!”

An ugly silence passed over them before May continued, “Not to mention how fucking disgusting your body is! Years of drug and alcohol abuse, you think the baby is safe? Even if you have a healthy enough body for the baby to be ok, you have to lay off the substances for nine months! Not even one single slip up is allowed and I know, you’re not the type of person who can do that!”

“I can do it.” Mary had said, determined, unfazed by her sisters screaming, “This isn't just about the quiet May, it's about having a purpose.” she had rubbed her hand over her belly, “Everyday i’ve woken up not knowing why I was alive, but now...I need to keep living so my baby lives.” there were tears in her eyes, “I’m laying off the drugs. I’ll lay off everything if I have to, I am going to have a healthy baby and it’s going to be mine.”

May couldn't convince her otherwise. 

“Will you help me?” Mary had asked.

“I’ll be helping your baby, not you.” 

And that was good enough.

True to her word, Mary stayed sober, for the first time in a very long time. It was painful, torturous, but she had pulled through the symptoms of her rehab, and come out the other side.  She had moved in with May, and somehow, they formed a functional life together. She explained how she no longer had a job but it was easy enough for her to get a new one. 

“So, you’re not telling Stark?” May had once asked.

“No, never.” she said, trailing a loving hand over her bulging belly, “He just ruins everything. This baby is mine, and mine alone.”

They found out it was a boy. 

He was going to be called Peter. 

Once that baby was born, May had never seen her sister look so happy. 

Mary was a wonderful parent. She was attentive, smart, loving and kind, always by the baby's side whenever he needed her. Even after Peter was born, she never craved the life she had before. Her brain was quiet, because all it could think of was the immense love she had for her son. 

She had moved out after the baby was born, giving May and her new husband, Ben, the privacy they deserved after hosting her for so long. 

Peter himself, was the cutest baby May had ever seen. He was adorable and cuddly and didn't make much of a fuss comparatively.

Life was good. 

Until Peter started to talk. 

“Just like Tony.” Mary had panted over the phone, “He sounds and acts just like Tony, May, I can’t take it!”

It had hit Mary, at that time, that she was the mother of Tony Stark's child. 

And that fact did not sit well with her. 

Peter was two when his mother did a whole relapse. Everytime she looked at her son, all she could think of was, _ “Tony. Tony. Tony. Tony. _ ” and that was not the focus she wanted. 

She needed it to stop. Needed it to all stop. 

So she went back to the drugs. The drinking. The one night stands.

She became abusive. 

May forced her way past Mary one day, barging into her house after weeks of being rejected and she saw Peter on the sofa, a black eye forming. 

A shirtless man walked out of the bedroom, eyeing her, “Who the fuck are you?”

The day had ended with May, trying to take Peter out of the house but was met with a firm rejection from Mary, who refused to let her leave with her son. Peter had started to cry during all the yelling and the man had smacked him over the head, demanding that he be quiet. He was then met with a tight slap from Mary, who cursed him out for touching her son before she quickly pushed both him as well as May out of her house. 

That very same day, May had called the police. 

Problem was, Mary was smarter. 

Half an hour later, the police were barging into her house, with May on tow, but to their surprise, nothing was wrong. 

The house was perfectly clean, no glass bottles or uneaten food. The furniture was in perfect condition and even Mary, who pretended to be surprised, was dressed up to the nine, looking perfectly healthy. 

Peter was questioned as to his black eye, and he just said that a kid in the playground had punched him. 

They left, there being nothing to arrest her for. 

May didn't give up though. Report after report, she had filed. But Mary was always five steps ahead. Even random check ups, ones that were planned with the uttermost secrecy, were a bust. Every time social service came by, everything was perfectly alright. Even the blood tests came back negative, showing definitive proof that Mary was sober. She had a working job, Peter was being homeschooled and when Mary was at work, she would drop him off at his friends Ned’s place, whose mother was a stay at home wife. Mrs.Leeds even corroborated that story, giving a testimony as to how loving and sweet the Parkers were. 

It came to a point where May couldn't fight anymore, where the authorities wouldn't let her. They chalked it down to her being jealous, because she couldn't have children of her own. Mary even commented on how she had always been jealous, as she was always the centre of attention.

But May knew. She knew what was going on behind closed doors. She knew Mary was a junkie, she knew Peter was being abused. She knew it just by the broken look on Peter’s face and the deadly, secret glares Mary would send her way. 

There was nothing she could do.

Thankfully, however, Mary died. 

May’s excitement was short lived by her immediate need to get to Peter, but she was too late, authorities had already handed him over to Tony Stark, his father. 

She didn't like Tony. He seemed just as bad as Mary, if any of her (albeit, biased) stories were to entail. But again, May was helpless. The authorities would choose Peters custody to go to his father, rather than his Aunt. She knew Mary had drafted a will when they were living together, handing custody of Peter to her sister, but she must have changed it once the whole fiasco started.

So May crossed her fingers and hoped for the best. 

And here she was, her nephew standing right in front of her after so long. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Jontron's voice* I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaack.  
> It's been like over a month, oops.  
> Many apologies, but there was a lot of college shit I had to focus on that gave me zero time to write this story. Good news though, I have time to write it now, so expect more updates!  
> Thanks to everyone whose been reading, and enjoy this angst fest!

“Yes.” May confirmed, “I’m your aunt. You remember me?”

Peter nodded slowly, “...you tried to take me away from mom.”

“Yes, yes I tried.”

“Why would you do that?” Peter asked, his voice wobbling.

May raised an eyebrow, “Why...Peter, it wasn't safe for you.”

“It was fine. Everything was fine. I was ok.”

May frowned. Peter had a look on his face, his eyes glazed over...similar to the look he would get when he got questioned by police.

Whatever Mary did to him, to keep him silent, it still was ingrained in him. 

May hesitated before she placed her hands on his shoulders, grasping him tightly, trying to ground him back to reality.

“Peter, it’s ok.” she said, softly, “Your mom cant hurt you anymore.”

“She never hurt me, she never hurt me!” Peter said, his voice growing louder as he defended his mother's actions.

“Peter?” a voice suddenly called out, making both of them turn their head towards the noise. 

Tony Stark walked into the aisle, looking for his son, pushing the heavy trolley as he walked. He paused, eyebrows raised as he looked at the two of them. 

The glazed over look on Peter’s face vanished as soon as it came, as he quickly ran towards Tony, handing over the ketchup bottle before he hid behind him, clutching onto his pant leg. 

May paused at the dangerous glare Tony sent her way, “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m...I’m May Parker.”

Now it was Tony’s turn to look surprised, “Mary’s sister.” he stated, “she told me about you.”

“Not great things, i’m sure.” she said, lightly. 

“Yeah.” Tony said, an arm reaching out to comfort his son, “Have you met Peter before?”

“It’s a long story.” she confessed. She paused before she asked, “Can we get coffee?”

~~~~~

Tony agreed to her proposal only after Peter gave him the green light. There was something about May that made Peter uncomfortable, so to distract him, he suggested they go to a cat cafe. 

Tony smiled as he watched a bunch of cats make their way to Peter, the felines attracted to him. Peter was sitting a bit away, all his attention on the cats. His heart swelled as he watched a beautiful black cat nestle into his kid's lap, and started to lick his chubby cheeks. 

“So,” he said, tearing his eyes away from the scene “What's your history with Peter?”

She explained, told the whole story and by the end of it, Tony didn't know if he wanted to cry or scream, possibly both. Poor Peter. He didn't realize that Mary hated him so much, that she would take out her rage on her own kid. Guilt ate away at his heart as he remembered the bruises on Peters body he decided to ignore, the day they first met. 

May, somehow, managed to sense that from him, “Stark.” she said, sturdy, “This wasn't your fault. Mary always had...issues. She would get obsessed with things and try to find connections that aren't there. Peter is only half of you, yet she chose to focus on that half rather than the parts of him that were her, you know? You were just another obsession.”

“The only reason I was an obsession was because we had a history. Because I decided to seduce her.”

“And she reciprocated. Plus, if it wasn't for that, Peter wouldn't have existed.”

Tony’s heart calmed at that. He looked over at Peter again, smiling fondly as there were now about five cats who were all cuddling upto the kid. Everyone, even animals, seemed to love him. 

May looked at the sight and smiled as well, a smile of affection. Tony liked her. More than anything, she seemed to understand what he was going through. Like him, she also had a history with Mary and Tony was overjoyed that all of the adults in Peter’s life hadn't been total assholes. 

“So, how’s it going between you two?” May asked wearily, eyeing him up. If Mary had told her stories about him, he wasn't surprised if she was a bit on edge.

“So far, so good.” he admitted, “Started off a bit rocky, but now it seems to be going ok. But, it’s only been two days, can’t say for sure.”

“Yeah? I can understand that.”

Tony hummed, “I’m going to miss him when he’s gone.”

That caught her attention, “Excuse me?”

That’s when Tony realized, she had not been informed about the condition.

“Mary wrote in her will that i was to look after him for a month, after which, I can send him off to foster care.”

He expected her to be angry, at him, at Mary, disgusted by such a proposition, but instead, her eyes lit up and she reached forward, grasping onto Tony’s hand. 

“If it does come to that,” she said, “could you maybe send him my way instead?”

Tony paused, “You want to adopt him?”

She nodded, vigorously, “I’ve been looking after that kid since he was born. It breaks my heart everyday that I couldn't save him. I’ve been fighting for him for a long time, and we both know that an orphanage is not always the best way to go, so i’ll be happy to take him in.”

No judgement, no anger or disgust. May Parker was a woman who truly cared for his child. Tony heard her plea, but his brain came up with another version of what she could have said:

_ Not that you’re not a good father, but maybe, if i raise him, he can turn out different than his parents.   _

And maybe she had a point, Tony didn't dwell on that. What he was happy about, was that when Peter leaves, he had a home he could go to. 

Tony grasped her hand tightly in return, grateful, “Of course. Thank you.”

May nodded, a smile on her face. 

“However,” he said, which made that smile immediately go away, “for that to happen, we have to make Peter not be afraid of you anymore.”

She sighed, leaning back, her hands leaning Tony’s as her posture slouched, “Yeah, that’s true. I can't imagine what Mary must have done for him to have that reaction towards me. No doubt she ingrained it in his head that i’m a bad person.”

Tony grumbled in frustration. The image of anyone laying a finger on his kid upset him. “There’s a lot of things we need to figure out. I’m sure we still don't know the whole story.” 

May nodded, before she looked at her watch. “Oh, I have to go home, my husband will be waiting.” she took a napkin and a pen, quickly scribbling her number, handing over to Tony and asked him to keep in touch. She got off the chair and Tony followed suit, 

“...Mary’s funeral is tomorrow.” he said. 

“Oh.” she said, not sure how to react.

“I mean, obviously, you don't have to be there if you don't have to, but just letting you know the option is there for you.”

“Thanks.” she said.

An awkward silence followed and Tony was determined to get out of it, so he put his hand out for her to shake. 

“It was nice meeting you.” he said, as she shook his hand.

“Yes, you too.” she glanced over at Peter before an idea sparked in her head and she turned to Tony, “Can I hug you?” she asked, suddenly.

Tony stammered out an ‘excuse me?’

“Thing is,” she explained, “If Peter sees you, his father, being ok around me, then slowly, we can undo what Mary did, make him have a good impression of me.”

Tony was still unsure, he wasn't a huggy person, and definitely not to people he just met.

“We need him to like me Stark,” she said, “If not, they’re not going to let Peter live with me.”

That convinced him enough to nod.

“Great.” she said with a smile. She turned towards the kid, “Bye Peter!”  she called, to which, the boy simply turned his head to look at her, expressionless and motionless. It sent a shiver down Tony’s spine. 

“Goodbye Stark.” she said, pulling him in for a hug. 

Tony’s body went stiff but he forced himself to at least drape one arm around her shoulder, to show Peter that May was a good enough person for him to hug. 

She quickly separated, not wanting to make him too uncomfortable. With a pat on his shoulder, she walked out of the cafe, quickly paying her part of the bill to one of the waiters.

Tony watched her leave. He was glad he met her. It felt good to have someone to talk to...and a backup plan to land on. 

There was tug on his sleeve and Tony looked down to see Peter looking up at him, a slightly scared expression on his face.

“What did you talk about?” he asked,

“About you.” Tony answered honestly, “About your mom.”

“She tried to take me away.” Peter said, “Is she going to take me away from you?”

Tony’s heart was stabbed with pain. Fuck.

“No Pete.” he said.

I'm going to send you away.

~~~~~ 

The funeral was the next day. 

Tony woke up, groggy and annoyed. After Peter went to bed, he started drinking again. Not enough for him to have a major hangover, but enough for him to wake up with a massive headache. He quickly reached for his bedside drawer, opening one of them to pull out the aspirin, the action being second nature to him by now. 

After he freshened up a bit, he knew he needed coffee. What he did not expect to see, was Peter already awake, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. Since yesterday, for the first time in a long time, Tony’s fridge was full of food.

“It’s six in the morning.” Tony said as he started to make himself a cup of coffee, “Shouldn't a kid like you be sleeping?”

“Kid like me?” Peter repeated, seating himself by the table.

“Young ones. Enjoy sleep while you can, when you’re an adult, you’ll never get enough.”

Peter simply cheekily rolled his eyes at the mans complaining, before he focused on his juice. 

Tony sat opposite of him, a hot cup of coffee in hand and they just drank in silence. It was nice, comforting.

Few minutes passed before Tony broke the ice, “It’s you mom’s funeral today.”

Peter nodded, finishing his juice.

“How’re you feeling?”

The kid simply shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t really like thinking about it.”

Yup. Definitely Tony’s kid. Way to avoid problems is to not acknowledge it. Unfortunately, he also knew it wasn't the healthiest way to go about life, and it isn't a habit that should be encouraged. 

So Tony pushed, “Do you miss her?”

A pause. Peter eyes darted wildly, his eyebrows furrowed. If it took him this long to answer, it probably wasn't a positive answer.

“...yes.” Peter said, catching on that he was taking too long.

“Peter,” Tony said, lowering his tone, “It’s ok, your mother-”

“Of course I miss her.” Peter interrupted, his eyes suddenly too still, “She is my mom. She takes care of me and feeds me and loves me.” he listed out.

“She hurt you, Peter, mother’s don't do that.”

“She didn't hurt me!” Peter’s voice was growing louder, “Everything is fine!” he was panicking now.

“Ok, ok.” Tony agreed, now internally panicked himself. He wasn't able to handle himself when he got his own nervous breakdowns, God knows he shouldn't be responsible for this kids, “You’re right, everything is fine, Pete, calm down.” Tony got off his seat to lean over the table, taking Peters face in his hands. His thumb caressed the soft cheeks of his son, trying to ground Peter back to reality. 

“There you go,” he said, softly as Peter took a few deep breaths. “How about we get you ready, yeah?” he asked, once Peter was back to normal.

The kid nodded, not saying a word, before he got off his seat, Tony in tow as they made their way to his room. Tony had managed to order a bunch of clothes for the kid, ones that were not old and dirty, including a tux for special occasions.

Peter was quick, a bit confused as to the new clothes, but got the hang of it and managed to get dressed fast. Until it came to the tie, to which he held the long piece of cloth and frowned at it, confused as to what it is. Tony chuckled, taking the item from Peter’s tiny hands. 

“It’s called a tie.” he explained as he started to set it up for the kid, “You drape it around your neck and-”

“Ow!” Peter exclaimed, flinching away from the tie as Tony pulled on it. 

The older startled, immediately letting go of the item so that there was no pressure on his neck, “What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling back Peter’s collar to check. He cursed inwardly as he saw the darkening bruises on Peter’s neck. They were small and narrow, but they were there, nevertheless. 

“How about we skip the tie, huh?” Tony said, straightening up the collar, making sure the material wouldn't come on contact with the bruises while also ensuring that they were hidden. He couldn't bring himself to look at it anymore. It made him feel sick, made his stomach churn. 

He excused himself, claiming that he needed to get dressed. He got up and left, ignoring Peter’s stare as he all but ran to the kitchen to grab the nearest whiskey bottle. 

His horrors came rushing back. 

This is why he didn't want kids. What the hell was he supposed to do now. Evidence of Peter’s abuse was staring him in the face, and Tony blinked. It was too much for him. How was he supposed to fix this? Peter wasn't...broken by any means. He was still a bright kid who was confused as to what happened to him. What if Tony just made it worse?  

He took a giant sip out of the bottle, not bothering to fetch himself a glass. The liquid burned his throat, but he welcomed the pain. He felt a small twinge of relief as his nerves calmed down, but not enough. He was about to take another swing, before his ears picked up soft footsteps. 

Tony quickly put the bottle away, composing himself. “Mr.Stark?” Peter’s voice called out, “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, Pete.” Tony said, shooting the kid a weak smile, “I’m just a bit...scared.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up, “Scared about what?”

“Um…” You. Your life. Scared I might fuck it up more and might cause some permanent damage before you're gone. “Some boring adult stuff.”

“Oh.” Peter said, then after a second: “I’m scared too.”

Tony’s heart skipped a beat, “About what?”

“I don’t know.” he replied.

His mother’s funeral was today. Maybe it was taking a heavier toll on him than he let on,    
“It’s ok to be scared, Peter.” Tony said, walking towards him. He placed a hand on his head, ruffling his curls softly, “It happens to the best of us.”

~~~~~

The funeral went by without a hitch.

It went so well that it felt wrong. 

Mary’s whole life had been a shitshow, so Tony expected her funeral to be a mess too. But no. Things went smoothly. Largely to the part that a handful of people showed up. There was Tony, Peter and a few friends. Mary was not one for a social life. No other family was there. Her parents had died few years before they had met, and May hadn't shown up, Tony hadn't expected her to. 

They watched in silence as her coffin was brought out and lowered into the ground. The priest said a few words, but no one else did. No one knew Mary enough to say any parting words and no one thought it was appropriate to make a five year old speak about his dead mother. 

Until May Parker showed up fashionably late and got up in front of everybody, making an impromptu speech.

To her credit, she kept her cool, not faltering and the end of her speech was quite something:

“Mary was...a troubled person. I don't know how appropriate it is to say this, at her funeral, but Mary’s death does not erase the actions of her past. Let us mourn and grieve, let us remember her for who she was, the good as well as the bad.”

Tony kept an eye on his Son while Mary talked, trying to gauge his reactions. He was scarily stoic, no sense of any emotions traced his face. They stood side by side as Mary’s casket was lowered into the ground and eventually covered with dirt. 

As quickly as that, it was done. 


	7. Chapter 7

“What’s this?”

“It’s blueprints for other AI’s.”

“Woah! Like more Jarvis’s?”

Tony smirked, looking over at Peter. They were both currently in his lab, Tony was working on a new assignment while Peter roamed around, this being his first time properly in the lab. It was entertaining to see how excited the kid was, his eyes blown wide and cheeked flushed as he spent nearly an hour just beside DUM-E, talking to the thing like it was a real person. It was quite precious. 

“Yeah, more Jarvis.”

“Won’t he feel bad?” Peter asked.

“ _ He _ , doesn't really have feeling Peter.” then a pause, “No offence Jarvis.”

The AI replied, sounding amused, “ **None taken, Sir.** ”

Tony chuckled before resuming his attention onto his project. It was a new weapon he was manufacturing, and it was more complex, more destructive than his previous works. A simple grenade launcher, packed with the deadliest bombs he made thus far. 

...Maybe he shouldn't have let Peter in the lab today.

He was just about to voice this opinion, but quicker than he could speak, he heard Peter’s tiny footsteps before he saw his tiny head by the table. His big, brown eyes were glued to the material in front of Tony. The elder noticed that the kid had to stand on his toes to even get his eye level above that of the table top, and his heart swelled. 

Peter frowned as he looked at the jumble of parts and wires, that were semi-assembled. He blinked before his eyes grew wide, taking a step away.    
“Is that a gun?” he asked, looking up at Tony. 

Tony raised an eyebrow, “No, but close. It’s a grenade launcher.”

Picking up the empty metal container, Tony hefted it onto his shoulders, his biceps rippling under the weight. He looked through the eye-piece, pretending like he was aiming. 

“A fire of one grenade from this bad boy will be powerful enough to blow up a building.” 

Peter took another step back.

“You…” he said, slowly, “You make weapons?”

Tony kept the said weapon down, “Yes. What did you think I made?”

“I don't know!” Peter said, sounding frustrated, “I thought you just build robots, like a good person!”

Tony paused, before he spoke, “It’s not that easy to label people as good or bad, Peter. Am I really such a bad person for wanting to make money to survive?”

“You’re a millionaire.” Peter said, “You live in a mansion, you have enough money, you don't have to make weapons anymore.”

“True.” Tony said, with a shrug, not bothering to correct Peter and clarify that he was a Billionaire, “But you can never have too much money. Besides, if I don't do it, someone else will.” Tony defended, “and their weapons will be nothing compared to mine, at least this way, our military have a fighting chance.”

“In killing more people.”

“In defending our country, Peter.” Tony said, sternly. 

Peter didn't say anything, he wasn't looking at Tony anymore. Then softly: “Mom said that those who kill people are bad.”

“They are.” Tony admitted, “which is why my weapons are used to stop those people.”

“They are used to kill either way. What’s the difference between you and the bad guys?”

Tony’s mouth opened and closed, the kid was asking really difficult questions “...I don't kill people, Peter. Those who buy my weapons do.”

“She said that the only thing more dangerous than a bullet is the hand that pulled the trigger.”

Tony took in a sharp breath. His mind went back several years ago, to when he and Mary were starting to form their destructive relationship. 

They were in the lab together, as Tony finalized a new shipment of weapons to go. 

_ “Are we bad people?” Mary asked. _

_ “No.” Tony said, immediately, having had this conversation with multiple people already, “There is no bad or good here. We’re just the ones riding the waves of war.” _

_ “Does it not keep you up at night?” _

_ “No, because i didn't pull the trigger.” _

_ “I agree. The only thing more dangerous than a bullet is the hand that pulled the trigger _ .  _ But, there would be no trigger to pull if you hadn't put the gun in their hands.”  _

The conversation had ended after that and was never brought up again. 

Looking at Peter now, his expression being that of the determined and angry look mirroring that of Mary’s. He was definitely Mary’s son. 

“Ok, you need a time out. Go upstairs, i’ll get started on dinner soon.” Tony dismissed, ignoring the stab in his heart. 

“Fine.” Peter said, turning on his heels and walked out of the lab.

Tony watched as he left, his motivation to complete his project drained from him.

He sat in silence, the lack of noise deafening. He looked down at the grenade launcher, and all the people, all the conversations and all the arguments he had over the years came flooding back at once. Never, had he ever allowed the criticism affect him. There was reason why he was called the merchant of death and he slept soundly through the night, deciding to hold that name with pride. 

Yet, here, at the face of his son, it was the first time he was feeling something other that self satisfaction. He was feeling guilt. Crushing, painful guilt. 

He picked up the weapon and flung it against the nearest wall.

~~~~~

_ Cold air hit his cheeks, but Peter didn't care. His eyes trailed the fluttering of the flower printed curtains of the house balcony. Those curtains had been there all along, ever since he was born. They were a light pastel pink with lovely red roses printed all over them. _

_ As he stared at the curtains, ignoring everything else around him, he felt a wet tear fall down his face at the distinct noise of a body hitting the ground.  _

Peter woke up with a cry, his body lurching upwards. Heavy tears were falling from his face.

He felt sick. Sick and tired. This wasn't the first time this happened...whatever  _ this  _ was.

Peter was confused. He knew that people were supposed to be sad when someone dies. Ned’s mother had hugged him tightly yesterday and consoled him, telling him that it was ok to cry. Even Ned had started weeping once the coffin was covered with dirt. 

But Peter just never felt like it. Everytime he thought of his mother...he felt nothing. And he knew that wasn't normal. Especially, since they buried her the morning before. 

Shaking his head, trying to not think about it anymore, Peter wiped his face before he got off the bed. The minute his feet hit the ground, his head started to hurt. The room started to spin but quickly, it came back to normal. 

Peter was tired. So tired. But he couldn't sleep.

So he did what he always did, which was go around the house and explore. The place was huge, and there was always something new to see. Just a few nights ago, he found an indoor pool. He would have taken a dip, had Jarvis not warned him against it and said that he would call Mr.Stark if Peter went in the pool. 

Mr.Stark was...nice. At times. He did like him, but he was alot like his Mom. Moody and rude. There were times where he would be really nice to Peter, but then he would act cold. Plus, he was still dealing with a pretty big drinking problem that he (very horribly) kept trying to hide. Besides that, he was ok. He bought Peter a bunch of clothes, stocked the fridge, he even started to learn how to cook for him which was touching. The fact that he made weapons was a bummer though. Peter didn't like that at all. 

But whatever. He wasn't staying here long anyway.

Peter walked out of his room and into the hallway. He tried his best to ignore the dizziness and the burning sensation in his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen. He needed a glass of water.

Once he reached, he opened up the fridge and took out the bottle of cold water and started to chug. It relieved the dizziness he was feeling, which he was happy about. Placing the bottle back and shutting the door, he wondered where he should go next. 

Opening a mental map of the place in his head, he crossed out the areas that he had covered, and the ones he hadn’t seen yet. With a destination in mind, Peter set off to explore.

Unfortunately, he didn't get very far…

Within the few steps, Peter’s dizziness came back ten fold, hitting him so hard, he stumbled. His heart rate increased alongside his breathing as his bones suddenly turned to liquid and he felt so tired. Black spots danced along his vision and before he knew it, everything went black.

~~~~~

Tony slammed the car door behind him and all but ran into the hospital, clutching Peter close to his body. He quickly made his way to the receptionist, who was startled by his crazed expression, clearly not expecting a patient at two in the morning. 

“I need a doctor.”

“Y-You’re Tony Stark!” 

Tony fought the urge to curse her down. He was holding an unconscious child in his arms and all she cared about was him?

“Listen, I found him passed out on the floor and he isn't waking up, will you please get me a doctor before I make sure you never see another patient ever again?”

“You- What does that even-”

“I’m going to get you fired is what i’m saying.”

Before she could reply, another voice broke out, “I should kindly ask you to refrain from threatening the receptionist.”

Tony looked over to where the voice was coming from. It was a man, fairly tall with a mustache and goatee, similar to his own. He had black hair with streaks of white on the side, making him look mature, yet quite handsome. He wore the uniform of a doctor, coupled with a face mask dangling from his neck. His nametag read, ‘Dr.Strange.’

“Not that it would mean much,” the doctor continued, “She’s quite replaceable and honestly, not very good at her job,” Tony heard the woman gasp in offence beside him, “But there is a procedure to how we deal with things here, and just because you’re the great Tony Stark, doesn't mean everyone will bend over backwards to obey you. You think you’re the first person to threaten the staff?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, his looks seem to be the only good thing about him. Luckily, Tony could match up with his level of asshole, “I couldn't give less of a shit about you or your damn staff.” he snapped, “What i do give a shit about is this kid, so either you look at him, or get me someone qualified enough to do it. I might not be the first person to threaten you, but i’m definitely the only one with enough power to get this place sacked in a heartbeat.”

An ugly silence filled the room, with Tony and Strange glaring at each other, before the taller one relented. He rolled his eyes, clearly unaffected by Tony’s remark and fished out a small device from his pocket. He motioned for Peter as he moved forward. He took the device, a tiny torch, and flashed it into Peter’s eyes, which he had to pry open. Tony shivered as he saw that Peter’s eyes were at the back of his head, worry filling his heart. He was so scared that he didn't have time to process what a weird position he was in, with this Doctor leaning over them both with his annoyingly tall height. Or that the receptionist had taken a picture.

The doctor seemed to be done as he straightened up, “The kid is fine.” he said, “Just unconscious. He’ll wake up in due time. Just make sure he gets a lot of food and drinks a lot of water.”

“But why is he unconscious in the first place? Don’t you need to do some tests? Check to see if he’s ok?”

“It’s because of sleep deprivation.”

“It’s- What?”

“Sleep. Deprivation.” the Doctor repeated, condescendingly, “It’s when you’re not getting enough sleep, and judging by the kids eye bags, he hasn't been sleeping for awhile.”

Tony’s grip on Peter tightened, pulling the boy closer to his chest, “He’s five. How does a five year old have sleeping problems.”

Strage shrugged, “A lot more common than you think. Often, the problems are psychological so I suggest you figure that out, lack of sleep is more dangerous for children than it is for adults. In case it continues, then request to see a doctor and something can be done.”

Tony had an itching feeling he knew why Peter was not sleeping. If night terrors run in the family, Peter was fucked. 

“Don’t bother paying, this one's on me. I assume you know where the door is.” Dr. Strange dismissed, “And in case you do need to see a doctor, don’t come here. We have enough arrogant assholes who barge in.”

“Worried they’re going to take your place on the throne?” Tony remarked.

Dr.Strange smirked, “Why would I be when you have the crown?”

“Did you just call me a king? Thanks.”

“Wasn't a compliment.”

“Too late, i’m taking it as one. And I agree, I am quite majestic. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

He took out a couple of tens from his pocket and dropped it on the table, refusing to not pay, or rather, to let that arrogant doctor get his way.  

He hitched Peter up higher on his hip as he walked out, cradling his head on his shoulder. 


	8. Chapter 8

“Sir, Peter seems to have woken up.” 

Tony looked up at the clock in his lab. It was ten in the morning. Peter must at least be rested by now, even if it was because his body had given up on him. 

Now to stuff his face with food and make sure he doesn't divert the subject when Tony confronts him. 

**“Sir, please hurry to the kitchen,”** Jarvis said, **“Peter seems to be doing something risky.”**

“What!” Tony exclaimed, immediately sprinting out of the lab and towards the kitchen. Within minutes, Tony reached the room, calling out Peter’s name. 

The boy was standing on the counter, his toes dangerously close to the edge, but granted as there wasn't much space on the thing, there wasn’t much he could do about that. Peter’s hands were up, he was standing on his toes as he reached for a jar that was up on one of the higher shelves. It was a large, glass jar that was filled with cookies, and Peter had managed to pull it 3/4th out of the shelf, using the tips of his fingers. 

Tony’s voice made Peter flinch, distracting him. His fingers brushed the underside of the jar, pulling it out completely, while at the same time, his foot slipped. He was now falling, the glass jar not far behind, a jar that was probably as heavy as he was.

“Peter!” Tony screamed, and before he could think, his body reacted. Running in a speed he didn't know he was capable of, Tony reached Peters side. His arms reached out and grabbed the kid around his waist, pulling him towards himself, and out of the way of the falling jar. Time seemed to run in slow motion, as Tony did a full turn, faced the kid away and placing his own back towards the jar. There was a large crash, the deafening sound of glass shattering into hundreds of pieces, and Tony grimaced in pain and one of those shards flew out and pierced his skin, landing a cut across his calf. Even so, he shielded Peter’s body with his own, hugging the kid to his chest. 

Time resumed back to normal, and all that was heard was heavy breathing. 

“You ok Peter?” Tony asked, looking down at the shivering kid. Peter nodded but then suddenly gasped as he looked down at Tony’s leg. If the sensation was anything to go by, Tony was probably close to bleeding on the floor. 

“Peter, it’s alright. It’s not that-”

The kid suddenly started wiggling in Tony’s grip. The elder let go, before Peter suddenly sprinted away, running out of the room. Tony watched him go, and then let out a large sigh. He looked behind him and his eyes landed on the mess of Cookies and glass. 

“Jarvis, call one the cleaning bots. Make sure this mess is gone.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Tony then looked down at his leg. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants, so he carefully lifted up the bottom of his right leg. He grimaced as he saw the bleeding wound, but for the most part, it seemed like a clean cut which was not deep. A simple antiseptic and a bandage would suffice. 

Suddenly, he heard footsteps, and as soon as he had left, Peter came running back, now with something in his hands. Peter came to a stop in front of him. He bowed down, thrusting the object in his hands, a first aid kit, forward. 

Tony paused for a second, before gently taking the box from him. He didn't fail to notice how Peter flinched when Tony did so. 

The kid was shivering, his face still facing the floor. Tony couldn't tell if he was shaken, or scared, probably both. It was moments like these that stayed with a child, moments like these that have massive impacts. One wrong choice, and Peter could end up a different human being. Here he was, clearly expecting to be beaten or yelled at and it was Tony’s responsibility to be different. 

Quickly placing the kit on the counter, he kneeled down before the boy, and pulled him in for a hug. 

He felt Peter stiffen against him, clearly not expecting it. One hand on his back, the other cradling his head to his shoulder, Tony embraced his son. 

“Don’t you ever do something like that again, you hear me?” Tony said, stern yet kind. 

“You-” Peter said, his own hands slowly coming up to grasp Tony’s shoulders, “You’re not mad?”

“No, Peter. I was scared, but not mad.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter apologized, “You got hurt because of me.”

“It’s ok. Nothing your old man can’t handle. You’re not hurt anywhere are you?”

“No. Thanks for saving me.”

“It’s my job, kiddo.” With that, Tony got up, picking Peter up with him and hoisted the child onto his hip, “I’ll always protect you, Pete.”

Peter looked at him, his eyes glossy, before he leaned forward and simply hugged Tony’s neck. Tony ran a hand repeatedly through his sons hair, calming him down. His fingers slipped through the soft curls, the action calming himself down as well. 

“Why were you up there anyway?”

“I was hungry.”

Right. The kid slept through breakfast, “Next time, just call me. I’ll cook you whatever you like.”

Peter nodded, and nuzzled into Tony’s neck. 

Tony stayed like that for awhile, slowly strolling across the room. He felt Peter relax in his hold, anymore and he might just fall asleep. Tony considered allowing him to do that, obviously he needed the rest. However, he also desperately needed to talk to Peter about his sleeping problem. 

Unfortunately, while Tony walked by the window, Peter seemed to make that choice for him. 

“Hey, Mr.Stark? Who are all those people by the front door.”

What. 

Tony looked out the window, and sure enough, all the way at the bottom of the tower, was a massive crowd of reporters. 

Oh shit. 

Immediately, there was a ding before the elevator opened and out walked...  
Pepper Potts. She looked beautiful as ever, her bright orange hair tied up in a perfect ponytail sporting a grey suit with a white shirt. It was a simple look, but she pulled it off like it belonged on a fashion walk. 

“Tony! There’s a whole media outburst, something about you having a kid and the reporters have gone crazy. There’s a picture of you in a hospital carrying a child and its gone viral and-”

She paused, freezing in her step as she saw Tony, carrying Peter in his arms. 

Tony faltered for a second, “Ok, I can explain.”

~~~~~

“So, you have a kid.”

“Yup.”

“Mary’s kid.”

“Yup.”

“Holy Shit.”

“Language please, there’s a child present.”

Pepper looked back at the said child, who was currently sitting at the dining table, playing games on one of the Stark tablet, waiting for breakfast which Tony, actual Tony, was cooking. The man she knew couldn't pour milk on his cereal right, and here he was, making French toast. 

She took a closer look at Peter. He was incredibly adorable, with a big mess of curly brown hair and adorable eyes, eyes that were exactly like Tony’s. He was kicking his pudgy feet while he waited, his chubby cheeks pulled back in a grin while he played.

“So how’s fatherhood treating you?” she asked, her attention back to Tony.

He shrugged in response as poured the batter and started to fry it “It’s going ok so far. But it’s too soon to tell, I've only had him for a few days.”

Pepper let out a sigh, “Well, i’m sure it’ll get better. You have a whole lifetime to look after him.”

Tony grimaced, “Yeah, about that.” 

Once he was done explaining, Pepper was fuming.

“You cant be serious.” she whispered, in a harsh tone, “You’re giving him away? Just like that?”

“I’m sending him over to May Parker, she’s more capable of taking care of a child than I am.”

“Tony, you are his  _ father!”  _ she chastised, “Once a month is over, you’re just going to ship him off?”

“Pepper.” he said, plating the toast, “You know me. You’ve known me for years. I’m the last person who should be a father. My own life is a mess, a child should not be a part of that.” He walked away, plate in hand that he placed in front of his son. The child grinned, putting down the tablet before picking up the toast with his hand, a tiny hand which Tony lightly swatted away, before handing him a fork and a blunt knife. 

“Start eating, i’ll make you some more.” he said, before walking back to the kitchen counters. “Want some breakfast Pep?” 

“Yes.” she said, “A once in a lifetime opportunity where Tony Stark has cooked something? I’m not passing that up.”

“Alright smartass, go sit by Peter, i’ll serve you too.”

"Language, please." Pepper said snarkily, looking at him for a second, before moving, taking the seat besides the young boy.

“Hey there Peter.” she said, with a smile, “My name’s Pepper, it’s nice to meet you.”

Pepper could see Peter’s chubby cheeks move faster as he chewed, quickly swallowing, 

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Is the breakfast good?”

“It’s great!” 

Pepper could hear Tony chuckle with pride in the background and she smiled.

“Are you Mr.Starks girlfriend?”

Pepper sputtered out a laugh, “Oh no, God no.”

Tony frowned, “Be more disgusted, why don't you.”

Pepper simply ignored him, “Your Dad and I are business partners. I’m his assistant.”

“What’s that?”

“It means I do all the work for him and he gets all the credit.”

Tony came up behind her, a fresh plate of toast in hand, “That is not at all true, don’t feed him lies.” he transferred some toast onto Peter’s plate before he placed the other one in front of Pepper. Her mouth watered at the steaming, fluffy bread in front of her. She quickly took a bite and was surprised at how good it was. 

“Tony, this is great! Why have you never cooked before?” she complimented, before digging back into the food. 

Tony shrugged before going back to the kitchen to make more. 

Pepper continued to talk, “So, Peter, what do you do for fun?”

“I like drawing.”

“Yeah? What do you draw?”

“Robots! And Superheroes!”

“Wow! Can you show me some?”

Peter nodded enthusiastically, about to get off his seat before Tony stopped him, brandishing his spatula at the child,

“You can show her all your drawings once you’re done eating, young man. Get back on your seat.”

“But I-”

“No buts! Doctor said I need to stuff you with food, and that’s what i’m doing.”

Right. He had taken Peter to the hospital. She would ask Tony about it later.

“Fine.” Peter said, rolling his eyes before he got back to eating. 

Within half an hour, breakfast was done and Pepper was looking through Peter’s drawings. He was quite average for a child, but what marveled her more was his handwriting. He had drawn little comic characters and had written speech bubbles beside them. His handwriting was really good, not to mention the language. ‘Extravagant’, ‘ridiculous’, ‘gorgeous’, ‘indescribable’, what five year old knows these words? 

She complimented Peter on his work, and he gave her the cutest, bashful grin she had seen and she felt her heart melt. 

“How you can even imagine even sending away such a sweet kid?” she had asked Tony, when the two of them were down by his lab, looking over his latest invention.

“Pepper…” Tony sighed, “I’m not father material.”

“I just saw you, cooking, for the first time in years. You made sure he was eating well and you didn't let him leave until he did, Tony, these small things are important and you’re doing great!”

“The big things are important too!” he argued, “I have to take care of his health, his education, his whole life. I cant even take care of myself, you know this.”

And she did. She’s knows Tony for several years, and she knew how much of a mess he was. If someone had told her he was responsible for a child, she would take the child away from him herself. The minute she saw the picture up online, and the rumors spreading, she immediately started to panic. A child would not be safe with him. 

But here, watching the two of them interact, she saw that she was wrong. Tony cared for the kid and was becoming a more responsible person because of it. She had taken a closer look at him, and she noticed significant changes. He seemed less tense, he had put on weight (which was a good thing, he was too skinny for a man his age), his undereye bags had become less prominent and he was sober, a look she hadn't seen in years. He was becoming a better person because of Peter, but she was scared to point that out. Tony had an unhealthy habit of spiraling when he realized he was happy. Whether it was hooking up with terrible people, or drinking himself to a slump. Actions like that were not acceptable, especially now with a child present. So Pepper decided to stay quiet, for now.

"I almost had a panic attack myself when I had to take him to the hospital." he explained.

"What happened?"

"He's not been sleeping. A five year old with insomnia. Mary probably has something to do with it, and I need to figure out what."

“Right...” she said, not really knowing what to say. Quickly, she changed the subject, “So what should I tell the media?”

“Tell them he’s my nephew. Or that I was babysitting a friend’s child or some shit, but do not tell them he’s mine.”

It was a smart move. If people found out that Tony had a son, only to have that son belong to someone else in a month, there was no way they would recover from that news. She can only imagine the massive hit their business would have to face. 

“Alright.” she moved towards him and wrapped her arms around him, “I’m really proud of you Tony. Any help you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Tony nodded, “Thanks Pep.”

~~~~~


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2019 everyone!!! Thank you for reading my story, I love you and wish you all the luck and happiness for the new year!  
> Disclaimer: Spoilers for the Star Wars movies.  
> NOTE: For all the new readers, or the old ones who've come back to re-read, this chapter had a section that hinted at Dr.Strange and his future with the Starks. But, i've removed it as it's not what I wanted for my story, and that I decided to change the pairing.   
> So enjoy this shorter than normal chapter.

Tony was the worst.

Once Pepper left, he had every intention to go upto Peter and talk about his sleeping problem. But once he made his way back to his room, the kid was asleep, curled up into a tiny ball.

Leaving the room, disappointed that the kid was asleep yet relieved that he didn't need to have that difficult conversation right now, Tony immediately made his way to the drinking cabinet.

Which led to him sitting in his lab, a disgusting aftertaste in his mouth. He glanced at his watch and groaned. It was just past 12 AM and he was tipsy. He needed to get up start cooking lunch. Tony gave his clothes a quick sniff. And a shower.

He got up, loosing his balance for a split second as the room started to spin, but quickly caught himself before he could fall. With a heavy groan, he left the lab and made his way to his bedroom. He had to cross the living room, and he found Peter sat on the large sofa, his eyes glued to something playing on his TV.

Tony flinched as the bright lights hit his eyes, but he quickly masked it when Peter realized he was there.

“Hi.” Peter said, waving, “Want to watch TV?”

“Not right now squirt, I need to take a bath.” speaking of which, “Have you taken one?”

Peter nodded, “I take mine in the morning.” The kid was way to self efficient, something Tony needed to be.

“Alright then. I’ll join you soon. What’re you watching?”

“I don't really know.” he said, facing the TV again, “I think it’s called...Star Wars?”

One of Tony’s favorite films. Star Wars was a huge inspiration when it came to inventing things, he always loved their lightsabers and plasma guns.

He grinned, “I love those movies. I think you’ll like it.” he made a move for his room, “I’ll call you once lunch is ready.”

“Ok!”

Within an hour, Tony showered, becoming a bit more sober (No matter how much alcohol he drank, he couldn't let Peter see that side of him. Luckily, he had enough practice with pretending to be sober. Every big conference and meeting had consisted of him drunk anyway. He could fool a child) and had made them some pasta for lunch.

“Woah, WOAH!” Peter yelled, bouncing up and down on his butt as he watched Luke destroy the Death Star, “That’s so COOL!”

Tony winced, the sound cutting into his head but he brushed it off quickly, “stop jumping, you’re going to spill your food.”

“Sorry.” Peter grinned, happily, his grip tightened on his bowl as he ate another spoonful of pasta, “Take that Darth Vader! You can never beat the good guys!” he yelled at the TV before he turned to Tony, “Who's your favorite Star Wars character, Mr.Stark?”

Tony thought for a second as he swallowed his food, “Probably Han Solo. He works hard for what he wants but is still able to adapt to change. He’s cunning and sneaky but he’s still a good man deep inside.”

Peter grinned, “Sounds a lot like you.”

Tony froze, his heart and head not being able to comprehend that. His immediate reaction was to reject that ridiculous notion, and if it were an adult or a friend, he would have said so. But Peter was a kid. He didn't need to know of Tony’s internal self loathing. Tony was probably the last person who could be a man like Han Solo and he knew it.

But instead he just expressed his thanks.

“I like Luke.” Peter said, continuing, “He’s the hero! He always wants to save people and he looks cool doing it!”

Tony smiled, “Maybe one day you can be a Luke Skywalker, huh?”

“Yeah!” Peter exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air with excitement, watching as the characters got medals draped around their necks.

“That was fun.” Peter said once the movie was over.

“You know there’s two more, right?”

Tony had never seen someone look so happy in his life over such trivial news.

So, they sat together and watched the other two movies. Tony had the entire series in the best quality money could buy, even the dreaded prequels (although he won't be telling Peter those exist just yet)  

Along the way, Tony even made popcorn, fifty percent of which ended up on the floor as everytime Peter grabbed a handful he would drop them out of excitement over the movie.

“WHAT? DARTH VADER IS LUKE'S FATHER?!”

Peter had all but given up sitting on the couch and was now standing up, his hands placed flat on the short table before them as he hopped up and down.

“That’s right.” Tony said, half immersed in the movie, the other half of his focus being on Peter.

“Woah, I did not see that coming!”

“Nobody did.” Tony smiled, remembering his initial reaction to the pot twist to be very similar. Although he also remembered his father yelling at him for being ‘too loud’ and to ‘stop watching those idiotic movies.’

As soon as the second movie was done, Peter demanded they watch the third, despite Tony’s (albeit weak) refusal.

Tony sighed as the third movie started, a fresh batch of popcorn on the table and a toddler on the couch. It was actually quite nice, he thought, domestic. He could get used to this. The opening credits started playing, and reminded Tony of something Pepper had mentioned before…

“Hey Pete, can you read what’s on the screen?”

Peter nodded, “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away-” he started narrating it out loud.

“No, no, I was just curious.” Tony stopped him before he could read the whole sequence out loud. He had noticed it as well, but Peter’s vocabulary and smartness was quite advanced for a five year old. Pepper had said that kids his age stick to nursery rhymes and picture books with large fonts. For him to be able to read moving texts with a decent amount of complex words in them was impressive. “Did you learn that in school?”

Peter shook his head, no. “Never went to school, mom used to teach me.”

Oh. Of course.

“What else did she teach you?”

“English, Math, some Chemistry and Physics.”

“Wow. Some advanced stuff for a kid.”

“Nah, it’s fun!” Peter said, with a grin, “But it got lonesome though.”

Bet it did. According to May, there was only another kid, Ted or Ned or something, who was the only friend Peter had. Now Tony needed to decide what to do about Peter’s education. Sure, he was smart enough to easily join advanced classes and skip a couple of grades, but Tony knew better than anyone how horrible that experience would be.

God, he needed a drink. He was already back to being sober.

Luckily, the conversation did not continue as the movie started, for real this time. Peter let out an adorable gasp of excitement which made Tony chuckle. The film played without a hitch, until Jabba the Hutt came on screen. Tony grimaced at the terrible effects coupled with a terrible looking monster.

He looked over at Peter, and the usually jumpy excited kid was now sitting still, frowning. He looked fairly uncomfortable as he watched the brown, gooey monster man make his presence known.

“Do you want to pause the movie, buddy?” Tony asked, not wanting Peter to force himself through something he was scared of.

“No, it’s ok.” he said, eyes still glued to the TV.

“D-Do you want to sit by me?” Tony questioned. He hoped he could give some sense of comfort to the child. Last thing he needed was Peter to have Jabba the Hutt themed nightmares.

Peter nodded and then started to crawl towards his father, his eyes still glued to the movie. It wasn't like they were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but they were still not sitting side by side.

So Peter crawled and crawled...right onto Tony’s lap.

He casually gripped onto Tony’s thighs and climbed on, sitting on his lap and leaned back onto Tony’s chest.

This wasn't what Tony was expecting. He wanted Peter to come closer so he could put an arm around him or something, not to be used as a personal armchair. But looking at how tiny and comfortable Peter was, Tony didn't have the heart to do anything, aside from bringing his hands forward to lightly wrap it around the kids waist, securing his position. He felt himself relaxing as he leaned into the cushions even more.

This was quite comfortable.

He wouldn't mind having it for a lot longer.

~~~~~


	10. Chapter 10

It was currently midnight and Tony was sitting by the dining table, waiting. Jarvis told him that it was after this time that Peter would wake up.    
After they watched the movie (with Tony holding Peter while the child cried when Darth Vader died) it was already time for dinner. Tony made dinner and they ate together, enjoying small chit chat while Peter gushed about how amazing the movies were. It was quite precious. 

Quickly after that, Peter went to bed. Tony wanted him to hold up, talk to him about his sleeping problem, but figured it would be more effective to catch him in the act and confront him about it. Peter was a boy who deflected and changed subjects easily, this would be a tough conversation to have. 

Tony was working on the table, fixing up the final touches of his latest invention when he heard footsteps. They continued until they reached the dining room, before they paused for a second and the steps started again.

“Peter.” Tony called out, realizing that the kid was trying to run away, “I know your there. Come here, I want to talk to you.”

The kid froze, understanding that he was caught. His shoulders drooped before he turned around and stared at his father, a look of hesitation on his face.

“I don’t like repeating myself, young man.” Tony said sternly, but then in a kinder tone, “I’m not angry with you Pete, just want to talk.”

Peter then slowly walked towards him, one step at a time. Tony pushed aside his tools, leaving some space for Peter as he picked up the child when he was close enough, and sat him down on the table in front of him. No turning back now, this was happening. 

“Peter.” Tony said, “Did you know that my parents died several years ago?” Peter shook his head, “Well, it was quite a while back, even before I met your mother, and it was hard for me. I was young and scared and I felt like I didn’t have anybody to help me. Their deaths affected me so much, that I lost sleep.” Peter’s eyebrows raised, “I would always get nightmares and it hurt me so much, that I decided that not sleeping was a better option.”

Not sleeping and drinking. But Tony didn't bother adding that fact. 

“It’s not good to do that, Peter. It's dangerous and unhealthy and Rhodey, you remember him, right? He was the one who managed to break me out of it. He sat me down, we had a long talk about it, and I became better.”

Tony paused, before leaning in slightly, not breaking eye contact with the kid, “What i’m saying here Pete, is that I know exactly what you’re going through.” He took his smaller hands into his own large ones and squeezed lightly, “I know how difficult it is and I know that talking to someone about it helps. Do you think you can talk to me?”

Peter didn't say anything, he simply looked down at their hands. Tony was about to break the silence before Peter spoke-

“How did they die?” he asked, softly.

Tony was taken aback, but collected himself quickly. This was why he started the conversation this way. Yes, it’s a fairly depressing topic for a child, but this is how he would get Peter to open up, if Tony was open himself. 

“A car accident.” 

“Were you with them?”

“No, I uh- I was at home studying for college.” Tony remembered it clearly. His parents were going out for a fancy dinner while Tony was to stay behind. He had yelled and complained and begged his father to take him to, but was quickly shut down. He hated his father so much at that moment, his body exhausted from all the studying he was forced to do. If only he knew that his father was the reason he was alive today. Had he gone to that dinner, no doubt the Stark legacy would have died that night. 

“Do you miss them?” Peter asked.

“Sometimes.” Tony didn't elaborate and Peter didn't ask him to.

Tony took a dive into the hard question, “Peter, did Mary ever...hit you?”

“No.” Peter denied softly, his expression unreadable. 

“Hey, listen to me.” Tony said, taking Peter’s soft face in his hands, “And I want you to remember what I say now for the rest of your life, ok?” Peter nodded, “Mary can’t hurt you anymore. No one will. As long as I live, no one will touch you, understand me?”

Peter’s eyes were slowly starting to tear up, but he nodded. 

“I can only help you if you’re honest with me Peter.” Tony said, bringing down his hands.

A small tear fell down his cheek, “But if I…” he said softly, “You’ll hate me.”

“What?” Tony asked, genuinely surprised, “Peter, that’s ridiculous, how could I hate you?”

“I’m...I’m a bad person.” the child looked down onto his lap, tears slowly falling from his eyes and Tony was completely panicking, but Peter continued to talk before he could say anything:

“She said that only bad boys need to be hit. So she hurt me.” his small hand came up to lightly trace the fading bruises on his neck, “She said it would make me into a good boy.” 

He started sniffling, “She said that- that when the police come to talk to me, I should not tell them about her hitting me, cause that way the police will know i’m a bad person then they’ll take me to jail.” he grabbed Tony’s hand suddenly, still not looking up, “I don't want to go to jail Mr.Stark.”

“You’re not going to jail Peter,” Tony said, lifting Peter’s chin up with his free hand to look him in the eye, “That’s a complete and utter lie,none of what she said was true.”

“But i’m a bad person.”

“No you’re not Pete.”

“I watched her die.”

And the world froze.

“...What?” Tony asked, wondering if he heard him right. 

Peter was looking down at his lap again, tears now freely flowing from his eyes. “I watched her...she climbed up the railing...she was calling my name but she was looking at the sky like I was up there. She was searching for me and I was right behind her...but I didn't call her.” he broke into a fit of sobs, “I watched her fall Mr.Stark and I let it happen...I- I killed her.”

Tony felt a stab in his heart, and a desperate need to hold and comfort his child overtook him. He quickly got up and picked up his son, embracing him with a deadly tight grip. Peter seemed to start crying harder at the action, but Tony didn't relent. He hugged his son so tightly, scared that if he lets loose, he might lose him. He had never felt such desperate, animalistic, urge to protect someone like he felt now. One hand holding him up, and the other one cradling his head, Tony pressed his face into the crook of Peter’s (uninjured) neck and the boy did the same for him as well. Tony could feel the hot tears damping his shirt and felt his own eyes well up. He started pacing slowly around the room, slightly swaying.

“Shhh…” Tony cooed, trying to calm down his child, “You’re not a bad person Peter.”

“Yes I am. She’s dead because of me.”

“Did you give her the drugs?”

“...No.”

“Did you push her off?”

“No!”

“Then you didn’t kill her, Pete.”

Peter started sobbing again. Tony’s heart ached at the idea that Peter saw his mother die and then proceeded to hide himself in his room so that the police wouldn't question him about it. He remembered Coulson telling him that Peter was in another room, probably the kid was scared he would be jailed up if the police knew he witnessed the death, thinking that he was responsible for her suicide. 

“Oh, my sweet boy.” Tony whispered into Peter’s hair, “Is this why you’re not sleeping?”

He felt Peter nod against his neck, “I keep seeing her fall.”

Tony let out a sigh, “It’s ok. It’s all over now.” he rubbed a hand repeatedly on Peter's back.

A fresh batch of tears started pouring from Peter and Tony simply let him cry, not relinquishing the hold on his boy. Tony felt the tell tale signs of him wanting to cry as well, but he held back. This wasn't about him.

Tony couldn't remember the last time he had that thought. Maybe that’s what being a parent is all about. Things were no longer just about him. 

“Do you...” a sniffle, “Do you hate me?”

“No Pete.” Tony comforted, “There’s nothing you could do to make me hate you.”

“Mom- Mom said that those who hurt people are bad…” Peter said, “and that bad people will be punished for being bad.”

_ That’s why she’s dead, _ Tony almost said, but he kept that to himself. 

“Do you think you’re being punished?” Tony asked, to which Peter nodded. 

“You know what I think?” Tony said, “I think bad things happen to good people. But good people will always have someone to help them through it. That’s why you have me, Peter, that’s why you have Ned and his mother, you have Pepper and Rhodey, your Aunt May, even Jarvis and DUM-E are here to help you.” Tony shifted his shoulders so that Peter moved off of it, looking him right in the eye, “a bad person doesn't have people who want to protect them, bad people are always alone. But you’re not alone, Peter, you never will be, because good people deserve to be loved.”

Peter’s eyes started to water up even more, but he didn't cry. Instead he simply leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck again. 

“I’m tired.” Peter confessed. 

“I'm sure you are. Want to sleep beside me tonight?” Tony asked. 

Peter nodded and that was cue for Tony to walk to his bedroom. 

Once inside, he carefully deposited the kid onto the plush cushions. He crawled in himself, dragging the blanket up to cover the both of them. He ordered Jarvis to turn off the lights as he tucked Peter in, getting the kid comfortable. Peter himself cuddled up to Tony’s chest, both of them lying on their side. Tony brought a hand up to lightly stroke it through Peter’s hair in a rhythmic fashion. 

“What if I wake up again?” Peter asked, his eyes closed and voice soft. 

“Then i’ll be here, and i’ll help you go back to sleep.”

Not that Tony could sleep right now. He was exhausted yet energized at the same time. He mind was working at a massive pace while his body was tired from the effort to not cry. He thought about a lot of the things Peter said, and while he knew this wasn't about him, he couldn't help but relate the things spoken about to his own life, more specifically:

**those who hurt people are bad… bad people will be punished for being bad.**

Tony wondered how many children are led to believe that's true, how many kids out there who are abused, bullied, ridiculed...affected by Tony’s weapons, how many of them think they deserve the pain they receive, out of the actions of other people? 

How many children have died due to the destructive power of his weapons? How many children have lost their parents and loved ones, how many innocent lives have been ruined because of  _ him? _

Tony was not a good person, far from it. Even by his own definition, he was a bad one. Always alone, always being punished. His alcoholism, sleeping around, having company who only wants him for his money, having friends who would not be there for him unless it benefited them (aside from his favorite two, Pep and Rhodes and he did not deserve them), having his parents be killed before he was mature enough to understand closure, having his dead father still somehow, rule his whole life, having this child, this lovely sweet boy, be placed under his care.

Tony Stark was a bad person and was being punished for his crimes over and over. It unfortunately took his heart-broken son to make him realize that.  

He needed to change, he was going to change. 

“Goodnight Dad.” Peter whispered, half asleep. 

Tony replied instantly, instinctively, “Goodnight Son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it wasn't clear, Mary died by jumping off the balcony in their apartment because she hallucinated that Peter was on the other side.   
> On that cheerful note, thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Sorry i've been away for so long. I just...lost motivation to write this story. I figured out why exactly that was, and since I don't want to stop writing it, there's going to be a few changes i'll be implementing to make this a better story. I'll talk about it in more detail in the ending notes, so I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Before Tony knew it, there was one week left.

There was one more week before Tony could send Peter away. 

Things had been going good for them. Things were no longer awkward or tense. Peter had been sleeping well which in turn, made Tony sleep well as Peter was still sharing his bed and he would not want to sleep until Tony was beside him. He would still get nightmares, but they only lasted for a few seconds. Peter would wake up in cold sweat, but then fall right back to sleep as  Tony ran his hands through his hair and whispered encouraging words in Italian. Luckily, those kinds of nightmares happened once a week or so, and Tony was sure that in time, they would disappear entirely.  

There had a small, charming conversation the day after the incident:

Tony was making breakfast, contemplating his new idea as to which way the company’s direction would take.

“Morning Pete.” he said, when his son walked into the kitchen.

“Morning Mr.Stark.”

What?

Tony turned on his feet and looked at the kid who was now sitting by the dining table. 

“Mr Stark?” he repeated before he could stop himself, “you called me Dad before.”

This time Peter froze, looking up at his father, an unreadable expression on his face, “O-Oh. Right. Ok.”

“I-I mean.” Tony stammered, now flustered. This was a new feeling for him, “If you want to.”

“Sure.” Peter said, shrugging, like this was something casual for him, “D-Did you like it when i called you Dad?”

“Shut up and eat your breakfast.” Tony said, with no real bite, as he placed a plate of toast on the table. The young one happily climbed onto the chair and started to eat. 

After that, things remained normal. Tony considered putting Peter into a school, but before that, he needed to gauge how smart his kid is. Turns out, pretty damn smart. Not only could he read and write English perfectly, he even understood basic math and chemistry. There was a time when the two of them were in the lab, and Tony had asked him to hand him a battery, Peter then gave him a different one than the one Tony had asked for, but he realized that it worked better for the project he was working on. So he still needed time to decide what he was going to do about Peter’s education. 

His favorite times he spent with Peter was when they went to private parks and his kid would play with his best friend, Ned Leeds. He was chubby, adorable young man who seemed to be a massive fan. The first time Tony met him, he was worried that Ned would collapse from hyperventilation. They would play in the park together, running and screaming in glee as Tony and Ned’s mother watched on fondly. Mrs. Leeds was a lovely women, one of the few rare gems who didn't care who he was so long as he was a good father. She also had no filter and spoke openly about Mary, apologizing to Tony for defending her when she was such a terrible woman. 

“I had no idea,” she said, “Mary was always so charming and lovely, it never dawned on me that she was… like that.”

Tony’s drinking came to an abrupt halt as well. 

It all started when Tony was in the dining room, downing a glass of whiskey. It was late at night and Peter had gone to bed. Tony’s itch for alcohol came back and he sat on his chair, the bottle half empty. Tony was fairly drunk, but he wasn't a crazy drunk, no danger to himself or anyone around him. After Mary, he became a sad, lonesome drunk. 

His ears picked up a soft pitter patter of footsteps and his heart stopped. Fuck. 

“Dad?” Peter called out, before Tony could hide the alcohol. He came by the dining table, his nose wrinkling at the smell of alcohol, eyeing the glass in Tony’s hand.

Fuck.

“What’s wrong Peter?” Tony slurred, “Nightmare?”

Peter nodded. 

Tony was stumped. He didn't know what to do. He would go and tuck Peter back him, but he wasn't sure if he could even walk straight. 

“Are you drinking?” Peter asked. 

No point in lying… “Yes Pete.”

An awkward silence passed before Peter suddenly yelled: “Let me try!”

“What?” Tony exclaimed, flabbergasted, before Peter launched himself at Tony, climbing onto his lap. 

“Peter!” Tony pulled the glass away from his son and over his own head, making sure the child wouldn't touch it, “Absolutely not!”

“But why not?” Peter whined, now standing on Tony’s thighs as he reached for the glass, “You’re drinking!” 

“Because i’m an adult!” Tony snapped, stretching his hand as far as it would go, his son just a few centimeters short of taking the glass, “Children should absolutely never drink this shi- Peter! What are you doing?!.” Pete had grabbed tightly onto Tony’s forearms and looked like he was about to scale Tony like a tower, before his eyes landed on the bottle on the table.

“Peter!” Tony said, his parental tone warning the child, a warning that Peter ignored. 

Peter had started to reach for the bottle, before Tony had enough,

“Ok, that’s it!” He wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist and lifted him up, tucking him under his armpit, like one would carry a dog, or a sleeping bag. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey in the other hand before he marched to the kitchen and poured the alcohol down the sink. “No one is drinking, you understand me?”

After that, everytime Tony was with a drink, Peter seemed to have some sixth sense and managed to find him, and demanded that he wanted to drink as well. It was getting beyond frustrating to the point where Tony had to think twice before he reached for the alcohol.

“It’s because he wants to be like you!” Pepper had told him when he complained, “You’re his father, he looks up to you! He sees you drinking, so he wants to drink as well.”

It made Tony think twice. Even when he had a drink in hand, and his son wasn't around, it still didn't feel right to drink it. There was this weird, awkward pang in his chest at the idea of even taking a sip,

So Tony stopped. Which in turn, made Peter stop asking. 

May Parker had come over a few times. Peter was a lot more open to her now, which made his aunt incredibly happy. She brought over her husband Ben as well who was as kind as she was. He worked as a teacher and gave Tony genuine advice about what to do for Peter’s education:

“In my experience,” he said, as he fondly looked over at May and Peter who were trying to see who could stuff their mouths with the most amount of pizza, “Gifted children are often put in classes where their intellect will be matched with children who are five times their age, and while that is good for their brain, it isn't good for their social skills, as i’m sure you’re aware.” Tony nodded, MIT while he was still a young teenager was no short of hell. The only reason he survived was because of Rhodey.    
Ben continued, “Usually, parents opt for that option because they’re in no position to teach the child themselves. However, that isn't the case for you, is it? There’s no reason why Peter can’t be kept in a school with children his age and learn about complex studies from you.”

An awkward silence passed over the dining table. May glared at her husband from the other side of the table, while Peter munched nonchalantly. 

“Oh.” Ben said, realizing what he had said, “Sorry, i mean, uh… May and I could teach Peter some higher level studies.”

Just one more week was remaining and Peter would be sent to live with the Parkers. 

Tony didn't know how to feel anymore. 

So he did what he did best, which was to repress his emotions and not think about it. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, however, Tony didn't have any time to think about it even if he wanted to, as all his time was dedicated to the new change he was trying to implement on his company. 

_“You want to do WHAT?”_ Pepper had yelled at him over the phone, when he first brought up the idea.

Tony winced, but repeated himself, “I just think it’s time we stop the weapons manufacturing and move onto something else.”

_ “Are you crazy? Tony, this is your legacy! The Stark name is successful because of the weapons you’ve made.” _

“Yes, and I don’t think i’m ok with that anymore!”

_ “Why? This never bothered you before and you’ve lived through this criticism ever since you took over the company!” _

“I know but-” Tony glanced at Peter who was lounging on the couch, reading a book, “But I want to live in a world where Peter doesn't think i’m the bad guy.”

Pepper was beyond frustrated, _“What does it matter? You’re giving him up anyway.”_

“So? Doesn't mean he’s not my son anymore.”

Pepper sighed loudly, _“Obadiah is not going to be ok with this Tony. He’s already pestering me over the leaked photo of the two of you, you need to talk to him.”_

Right. Obadiah Stane. He was his father's close friend, and an ally to the company. He was the closest thing Tony had to a father and stuck by him after Howard passed. 

However, he was a very business minded man, and would not accept Tony’s new idea. It could be explained, but Tony wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Stane about Peter just yet. But even he knew that the conversation was bound to happen. 

And when it did, Obadiah took it surprisingly well. 

It was a few days before the month was coming to an end, and Tony finally answered his calls and they talked. Tony explained about his situation, that he wanted to shut down the weapons manufacturing section of his company and move onto something else. 

_ “Is this because of Peter?” _ Obadiah asked, and Tony’s breath hitched.

“Who told you? Rhodey or Pepper?” Tony demanded. Obadiah chuckled,  _ “I’m disappointed you didn't tell me yourself.” _

“So, it was Rhodey, right?”

“Listen, Tony.” Obadiah had said, “I hear you. You’re like a son to me, and i understand what you’re going through,” a pause, “How about, before we make this official, you finish your current projects? We have clients lines up, we can stop taking in new partners and just finish the orders we have before we shut it down. Seem fair?”

And that was the thing about Stane. If Tony was the brains, Obadiah was the charisma and business. He knew how to haggle, how to sweet talk and how to bargain. Simply because he knew which spots to attack. 

Tony didn't know how he did it, but Obadiah knew that he was unsure about this whole ‘new direction’ thing. Tony didn't adjust well to change, he was having second thoughts the minute the idea came into his head, and Stane was feeding off of it. 

“...Fine.” Tony agreed, sighing.

“Great” Obadiah said and Tony could hear his grin, “I’ll let Pepper know, you leave tomorrow.”

~~~~~

“Yeah! Peace! I love peace. Would be out of business with peace.”

And right before the camera was about to take a picture, something exploded. 

The world started to spin, a deafening ringing in the air as the military officers beside Tony started to yell, going into the offence. 

Tony stumbled out of the car, that ringing not going away, as he stumbled around. His eyes then landed on something that was buried within rubble...a Stark missile. 

Tony tried to run from his own creation, but was too late. 

The weapon exploded, throwing him across the ground. He landed a few feet away, heavily, the wind getting knocked out of his lungs. 

Dark spots danced in his vision, his breathing painful, but he couldn't manage to stay conscious. 

The last thing he thought of before he drifted off, was his Son. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, a few major changes i'll be making, is 1) This is no longer going to be a StarkXStrange story. Don't get me wrong, i still love the ship, but I feel like a TonyXSteve pairing (and I ship them too) gives me a lot more freedom and much better payoff for some of the stories that i am DYING to write. Apologies to all the hardcore IronStrange shippers and the anti!Steve's.   
> 2)This particular story, of Tony and Peter getting to be father and Son is going to end the next chapter and I want to move onto Peter growing up and the whaky hyjinx he'll get upto. So, once this story is over, i'll be publishing a brand new set of stories on my account, which is a sequel to this one. I'm planning on writing it as a series of one shots, so it will have a much different tone than this, chronological one. So it just made sense to create a whole new story instead. I hope that you all will stick around for those, as I am super excited to write them!  
> 3) And I need your help on this one, I'm unsure as to whether i should stick to the non-superhero AU OR if i should make them the superheroes. I have many ideas as to how to write the modern AU and i'm quite happy with it, but Iron man and Spiderman are so important to who these characters are, i'm conflicted. The good thing about the modern AU is that i dont have to be cannon compliant and it gives me more freedom, but with the case of them being superheroes, i still dont have to be compliant, but idk, it just feels weird if i dont. IDK i'll let you guys decide. Please comment on which scenario you'd like to see more and i'll go with the majority! Either way, i'll be happy to write it.   
> So those are the major changes i will be making. This story of Tony and Peter is far from over, I havent even gotten to write the stories i wanted to, the ideas that made me start writing this fanfiction to begin with! So I hope you stick around, and thanks for reading! Please make sure to comment your thoughts!


	12. Chapter 12

May was beyond happy that Peter was living with her, even if it was only for a day while Stark went on some business meeting. He dropped Peter off before he said goodbye, promising to buy Peter a gift if he could. 

It didn't really hit May until after Tony was gone that this could very well become a permanent situation. Stark was conflicted, obvious to see, but he still seemed convinced that Peter should live with her and Ben. She didn't really know how to feel about that. On one hand, she was thrilled by the possibility that Peter might just become theirs, a child to take care for. But on the other hand, she wouldn't feel right about it considering that deep down, Tony does want to be with his Son. So far, he was a pretty good Dad. He had texted her a few nights ago and informed her that he managed to get Peter to open up about his mother and that his nightmares have stopped. As a nurse, she has worked with plenty patients and insomniacs, too afraid to sleep so she knew what a difficult task it is to coax a person out of it. For Peter to open up to someone, who he only spent less than a month with, that's something she failed to do despite knowing him for years. Peter obviously has a very special connection with Stark, and it hurts  May to admit, but Peter needs him. Unfortunately, Stark fails to see that.

However, all her internal distress was for nothing, as the very next day, a man named Obadiah Stane showed up on her front door. 

“Hello, Mrs.Parker.” he said, with a smile. She never liked him. Seeing the way he flaunted and bullshitted speeches on TV all the time gave May a distaste towards the man right from the get go. Never trust compulsive liars.

“I’m here with some...unfortunate news.”

“Unfortunate news does not usually leave a smile on a person's face.” 

That got a chuckle out of him, “May I come in?” he asked, ignoring her remark. 

After slight hesitation, she let him. He sat on the couch while she got him a glass of water. He thanked her, while he took a sip, clearing his throat before speaking: “There’s no easy way to say this...Stark has gone missing.”

May furrowed her brows, “What?” 

“He had a job, went out on the military field to showcase his weapons, but the enemy attacked and...have taken him.”

“Oh my god.” May whispered, not knowing what to think. 

“...I know about Peter.” he confessed, “and I know you’re looking after him right now, so it only seemed appropriate that you know about the situation.”

“Are-Are people looking for him?”

“Yes. Of course.” Stane said, not elaborating. 

“Well, do you have any leads? Any idea where he might be?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified information but rest assured, we have our best men on the look for him. He’ll be back with us in no time”

“Oh, don't  _ bullshit  _ me.” she snapped, “Can you tell me, with confidence, that he is alive?”

Stane faltered, letting out a huge sigh, “With relation to evidence?” he said, “No. But knowing Tony, he’s not a man to back down, even at the face of terrorists. I’m sure he’s alive.”

Not good enough, May thought, but she kept that to herself. 

“Actually, now that i’m here.” Stane said, “Would it be alright if I met Stark Junior?”

“He goes by the name Parker.”

If May didn't know better, she thought she saw a twinge of annoyance cross his expression, “Yes, of course, my apologies. I would like to meet young Peter.”

And then he did. They walked into the guest bedroom, walking in on Ben and Peter, the two cuddled together on an armchair, reading a book. Ben was surprised to say the least, not knowing that Stane was even in their house.

“Hey there Peter.” Obadiah said with a grin, walking like he owned the place, “It’s nice to meet you, My name is Obadiah Stane.” Ben got off the chair, giving the two of them some space, before he made his way towards May, leaning by the door frame.

“I’m one of your father’s best friends.” Stane said, shaking Peter’s hand. 

“I know you.” Peter said, looking up the the man, “I saw you on TV. You always stand next to Dad.”

“That I do, Peter, that I do. So what are you reading there?” He slid into the chair next to Peter, getting into a comfortable conversation. While Stane and Peter conversed (May didn't leave her eyes off of them for a second.) she explained the situation to Ben. 

“Shit.” he cursed, which was a huge deal, Ben never swore, “Tony’s MIA?”

May nodded, “They’re searching for him, but i’ve seen enough press conferences to know that MIA often means presumed dead.”

“What are we going to tell Peter?”

May froze, “...I dont know.”

Ben wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. She laid her head on his chest, taking comfort in his heart-beat as they watched Peter smile happily, without a care in the world. 

~~~~~ 

Tony woke up with a gasp, then immediately started to violently cough due to the massive amount of dust that attacked his throat. His mouth was dry, his chest burning. His head was all muddy, he couldn't think straight. He tried his best to remember the last thing that happened, but all he was met with was the image of a boy, a small, smiling child. 

He knew that kid. 

He was someone important. Someone special, so incredibly special. 

A happy, smart, wonderful little guy. 

His boy. His Son. 

Peter.

He shot up, his head spinning slightly from changing positions so fast. He was lying down on an uncomfortable mat which was spread on top of an uncomfortable table. He was shirtless, his torso exposed, but thankfully wearing pants. He ran a hand down his body, noting the new scars that decorated it. His breathing increased tenfold as his fingers lightly danced on the bandages and stitches that all but covered him. He counted over twenty cuts all over him. 

“Shrapnel. Tricky thing.” 

Tony flinched violently, his body groaning from the exertion. 

“I wouldn't recommend moving too much, the stitches might come undone.”

There was man sitting not too far away from him, on a rusted chair besides a rusted table, on top of which were surgical equipment.

“You didn't remove my liver and sell it on a black market, did you?” Tony asked, the first fear that came to mind, “Because I should warn you, with the amount of alcohol I drink, that liver will only get you like, ten dollars.”

The man chuckled, getting off his chair to walk towards him, “You have a very poor conception of how the black market works. Ironic, considering half your clients work in that sector.” He was white man, tall-ish, glasses, brown suit. 

“My name’s Yinsen.” he said, nodding, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mister Stark, although, granted we have met before, but I think you were too drunk to remember anything from that night?”

“I didn't sleep with you, did I?” Tony asked, shivering. 

Yinsen smiled, “No.” he said, handing Tony a coat, “But you did sleep with my assistant.”

“Huh.” Tony said, shrugging the coat on, “Did she at least have a good time?”

“He.” Yinsen corrected, “And I don't know, he didn't tell me.”

Tony nodded. He looked over the room. They were in a cave- no, a bunker of sorts. Everything was dark and dingy, save for a few lights here and there. He also noted cameras, all of which were pointed at their direction.

“Where am I?” He asked, eyes still scanning the room, “Why am I here? Who are you? And what the hell is Shrapnel?”

Yinsen dragged a chair over and sat down, “You’re in Afghanistan. The terrorist group abducted you and have plans for you. I’ve already introduced myself, I ‘work’ as their Medic and translator” he did the air quotes symbol when he said work. Clearly, he meant forced. “And Shrapnel were the pieces of metal that was inside your body.” he reached to the bedside table, picking up a petri dish. Inside was tiny shards of metal, a good bunch of them. 

“You got lucky.” he said, “If any of these shards got near your heart, you’d be a goner, but, as luck would have it, they seemed to hit you everywhere but your heart. It was no easy feat to get them all out, but I managed.” Tony looked down at his torso and sure enough, there were no scars around the middle of his chest. Weirdly, if he traced the unaffected area, he could probably draw a neat circle. 

“Thank you.” Tony said, “So now what?”

~~~~~

Pain. So much of it. The head of the terrorist gang had come up to him and demanded that he build him the Jericho missile. Tony refused and he proceeded to get tortured, so then he decided to concede. 

Luckily though, the translation issues gave him a massive advantage of setting up shop and preparing a way to break out of this place. He pretended to work on the missile, but unknown to his captors, he had a plan. Yinsen was obviously on his side, the two of them getting along instantly. 

Time seemed to run fast, days blurring into one long stream, night and day becoming meaningless as the two of them worked, nonstop.

“Weapons are your legacy, Stark.” Yinsen lectured, as Tony fell into a depression, his hope leaving him at a point, “Is that the mark you want to leave on the World?”

Tony hesitated. 

Yinsen continued, “My daughters name is Alecia, she’s 12.” he confessed, “My wife and I have been together for twenty years. I need to see them again Stark, I can't have you lose your cool now.” he sent Tony a glare, “Don’t you have someone you want to go home to?”

Tony looked up the cameras that were monitoring him. “Can they hear?”

“No. Not like they can understand anyway.”

Right. “...I have a Son.” Tony said, “His name’s Peter. He’s turning six this year.”

“Is that right? I have to admit, that’s quite a shock. Didn't expect you to be a dad.”

“Neither did I.” Tony said, chuckling, “I didn't even know he existed until a month ago. It’s actually...a really long story.” so Tony narrated the whole tale. It was nice, to tell someone who was not affiliated to the company, or not an old friend. He was just a guy, a normal man who Tony had the freedom to be honest with. 

~~~~~

“Is this all your stuff?” Ben asked, gesturing to the bag filled with the remaining of Peter’s clothes and toys. 

Peter nodded, watching as his uncle packed it. They were currently at his Dad’s house, in Peter's room. Aunt May and Uncle Ben told him that he would be taking a bit longer to come back home, so Peter would be staying with them for a bit longer. It had already been a week since his Dad left, and he didn't know how many more were left to come. Peter didn't mind though.Yes, He missed his Dad, he got used to seeing him everyday, but he understood that his father was an important businessman. He was so important that he had two people run his company for him! One was Ms.Potts and the other was Mr.Stane, the man he met yesterday. He was quite nice, he was the one who let them come back here, having a key to his father’s house as well. He was currently on the phone, talking to someone.

“Ok Pete, anything else you need? If not, we can get going.”

“I need to pee.” 

“Well, don't do that here!” Ben said with a grin, “You go ahead, i’ll wait for you in the hall.”

Peter nodded, walking towards the bathroom to finish his business.

Once he was done, he was about to leave the room, but stopped as he heard a noise. Someone was by the door outside, talking into the phone. 

“Why is he still  _ alive? _ ” The voice spat, “The missiles? I can ship you as many as you want! I don't- I don’t care if he’s ‘Tony Stark’, just get rid of him.” Peter’s breath hitched. “...Fine. You have till tonight, but I want him dead, you hear me?” Peter knew that voice. It was Mr.Stane.

Peter’s instincts told him to hide, to make sure Stane doesn't know he’s here. Maybe it was because of the years with his mother, where he learnt to hide himself when she was high, or else her beatings would have been a lot more ruthless, but something about Mr.Stane’s aura gave off that same vibe, one of danger, that if he knew Peter was listening, he would be in a lot of trouble.  

Quietly tiptoeing, Peter slowly crawled underneath his bed and kept quiet. 

He had no idea what was going on. Did something happen to his father? Why did Mr.Stane want him killed? He thought they were friends, friends don't do that to each other! Peter thought his Dad was fine and that work had simply kept him busy. Did Aunt May and Uncle Ben know about this? He was so confused...

Stane sauntered into the room, sighing heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.    
“Make it quick. People are searching for him. I don’t want them finding him unless its a corpse.” he all but yelled, before hanging up the phone and flinging the device on the bed in annoyance. “Damn idiots, making the situation so fucking complicated.” he muttered as he now made his way to the bathroom, “How hard is it for them to kill one man?” he slammed the door behind him. 

Peter slowly crawled out from under the bed, once he heard the bathroom door being latched, his heart beating loudly. He needed to do something. 

He saw the phone lying on the bed. Without really thinking about it, he grabbed it. He was about to run out of the room, before an idea came into his head. He took a chair and jammed it underneath the doorknob in a tilted fashion, the hind two legs on the ground while the front two were in the air, effectively trapping the man inside. He did this with his mother's boyfriend once. That could buy them some more time. Phone in hand, he sprinted out of the room.

“Peter?” Ben called, concerned over the terrified look on his face and the fact that he was running. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to go!” Peter said, grabbing Ben’s hand and dragging him towards the front door.

“What? Peter, what’s going on!”

“Mr.Stane is trying to get Dad killed! I heard him on the phone.” Peter lifted up the device and handed it to Ben, “He said Dad has to die tonight!”

Ben stared at the object, “I knew something was up…” he muttered, “Your father just so happens to go missing on his last day of work? Too convenient.”

Peter heard the bathroom door unlocked, followed by some scuffling. Then the yelling started.

"What did you do?" Ben asked Peter, eyes widening at the sound of Stane screaming for help. 

"I trapped him in the bathroom. Come on! We don't have much time!" That chair was flimsy, definitely easy enough to break for a man as huge as Mr.Stane. Once he's out and realizes that the phone is gone, he would be after them.

Luckily, Uncle Ben seemed to piece that together as well. “Come on.” he whispered, picking Peter up and quickly made his way to the front door, leaving Peter's bag of clothes and stuff behind. They were swiftly out the door and into his car. 

“Seatbelts Pete.” Ben ordered, and he quickly, very quickly, fired up the engine and started to drive. Ben floored the accelerator, speeding out of there, clearly over the speed limit. 

Once they were out of the vicinity of the Stark building, he seemed to calm down. 

“Dad is missing?” Peter asked. 

“Yes Pete.” Ben confessed, “Remember when Obadiah came to visit you? He actually came by to give us the news.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We didn't want to scare you.”   

A silence passed over them before Ben said, “But, this is good news. Your father is still alive. If we get him some help, then we can get him back.”

“Are we going to the police?”

Ben hesitated, biting his lower lip, “No.” he said. He continued, noting Peter’s shocked expression, “Obadiah will know we have his phone, probably realizes that we know he has a part in your father’s disappearance. A man of his power and money, he can easily buy over the police. Besides, this is too high profile for them.”

Peter nodded, “So, what do we do?”

“...I know a guy.”

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! So remember in the previous chapter where I said this will be the conclusion of the story? Well, that was a lie XD there's still a bit more to write than i anticipated so this isn't quite finished yet. I'm 95% sure next chapter will be the last one, but there's a 5% chance that might not happen, so lets see.   
> I also wanted to quickly thank everyone for their support and feedback. Reading everyone's comments meant the world to me. Majority of you guys voted for a non-superhero AU, which, after reading the support on the idea, is something i'm super excited to write about now! I'm really liking the new direction this story will be going, and i hope you will too!  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Welcome to the final chapter! Sorry it took so long. I was just never in the mood to write, until today, where my day was so shit that it gave me the emotional motivation to write all the angst. Of which there is a lot. Oops.  
> Hope you like it, thanks for sticking around, and look forward to the sequel!

Of all the ways Steve thought the day could have gone, this was not one of them. He was just finishing some paperwork before his phone started to blare. He glanced at the caller ID, not planning on picking up, but the name made him freeze.

Ben Parker. 

He remembered the man clearly. Steve and his team were investigating a group of men that were operating an underground kidnapping scheme, where they abducted children and dealt them under the table. They were a disgusting group of people who are all now behind bars and the children safely back with their families. If it wasn't for Ben Parker, however, the outcome might not have been so good. Steve got a tip that the group was going to target the school 

Ben worked in. Steve went to the headmaster for help. The man was apprehensive at first, not wanting to encroach on the privacy of his students, but Ben Parker was there alongside him, convincing the principal that it was the right thing to do. The team got access to the CCTV cameras, the names of the security guards and more. Ben even gave them added information, things like the perfect vantage point to check the entrance of the school, the areas that were less populated and were more likely to be the place where the gang might operate and the students who tended to be alone and were the perfect victims. 

It’s thanks to that information that Steve managed to correctly predict which child was the target and where exactly the crime would take place. When it happened, they managed to arrest the man immediately, saving the young girl he was trying to kidnap. He also happened to be an excellent snitch and ratted out the rest of his gang. Needless to say, Mr. Parker was a tremendous help and Steve owed him greatly. He gave the man his personal number, demanding that if he ever needed help with anything, he was to call him. 

That was over four years ago, and not once had Parker called him. Not even when he and his wife were facing bankruptcy, he didn't call. Having an FBI agent on your speedial was a handy advantage in life, but Parker never took it. 

Until today.

Steve immediately picked up the phone. 

“Hello?” he said.

“Steve?” Ben replied, “Is that you?”

“Yes of course it is.” Steve said, “How have you been?”

“Good, good. Listen, I need your help with something.”

“I assumed as much. What can I do for you?”

A screech was heard in the background, and Steve said: “Wait, are you driving?”

“Yes. But you’re on speaker phone.” 

“Unacceptable Parker.” Steve reprimanded.

“Listen, I need to meet with you as soon as possible. Right now.”

“Sure. I can meet you.”

“Great. I’ll be by your office in ten minutes.” and he hung up.

Steve looked at his phone in awe. Looks like he probably has a new case to work on. Good thing he wasn't doing anything else at the moment. 

Exactly ten minutes go by, and Steve gets a call from the front desk about a visitor. He gave the green light and a few minutes later, Ben Parker walked into his office, a child with him.

~~~~~

“You sure about this plan Stark?” Yinsen asked him as he put the final touches on his invention, “You’re talking about blowing up the entire area.”

Tony sighed, focusing intently on the tiny, tiny bomb in front of him. This was his finest work yet. “Yes, I’m sure.” Tony said. He picked up the device with the tip of his fingers. It was slightly larger than the size of a contact lens, the thickness less than the size of a bottle cap. It was a circular device, coloured black, with a light on top, which was currently switched off. It was a tiny bomb. Tony couldn't pack as much power behind it as he would have wanted, but this would have to do. One of these bombs, attached to a person, wouldn't kill, but could seriously maim. However, if you put all the bombs together and make them to explode collectively, it had the strength to cause enough damage to kill everyone within its range which was exactly what Tony’s plan was.

During the duration of his stay, he often demanded to be taken outside for small walks, lest he goes insane in the cooped space. They had people watching him of course, their guns cocked at all times, but he made it seem natural. Go for a walk, couple of bombs in your pocket when you ‘accidentally’ trip and fall, managing to discreetly throw the bombs underneath a carton of explosives. Keep stopping and panting, pretending to take a break to catch your breath because “surgery is not so easy to recover from” and stick the bombs on the crevices and holes of the rocky walls and the more fragile infrastructure, like pillars and such. Before he knew it, Tony had managed to rig the entire place. 

All that was left was to get him and Yinsen out before he pushed the button. 

“Ok, we basically ask them to take us both on a walk and once we’re out, we push the button.” Yinsen suggested. 

“Even if we’re out, we’ll still be caught by the blast. We’ll need to make a run for it.”

“They’ll gun us down before we’re even two steps away. What if we just stay down here?” Yinsen asked.

“Oh, apocalypse bunker style. That might work.” Tony said, licking his lips, “The bombs might blast open the door, but that itself will take on most of the impact. But once it explodes, we need to get out within a few minutes or the whole place will crash down on top of us.

   We need to put our plan to action as fast as possible. Once I’m done with this-” he gestured to the trigger he was still working on to set off the bombs, “We leave.”

“So, how long is that?”

“An hour, maximum.”

“Oh wow.” Yinsen sat on the chair besides Tony, his body sagging, “Now that we’re so close to getting out of here...it kind of feels like we won't make it.”

“Hey.” Tony said, sternly, still focusing on his work, “Don’t jinx shit, we need to get out of here.”

“I know.” Yinsen said with a smile, “You especially do. I’m sure Peter’s waiting for you.”

“I’m going to love the shit out of that kid when I see him.”

“You better.” a pause, “You’re going to be a great Dad, Tony.”

Tony smiled, “Thanks. I hope so… going to have to explain to his aunt that I’m keeping him.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand.”

This was a terrible situation to be in. One of pain and torture, emotional torment and humiliation, he had no doubt that the memories of this place would follow him for the rest of his life. But the good thing about this, was that Tony was now, surer than ever, that he wanted Peter in his life. The entire time he was here, his whole motivation to get out, was to see his boy. Not once did he stop thinking about Peter, about how he was going to shower that kid with love and gifts and spoil him rotten. He thought about watching his son grow to be a fantastic young man, and no matter what else Tony does with his company, he would never be able to make something as amazing as his child. 

So, he needed to get out of here. There was no room for error, no room for doubts.

Before he knew it, an hour was done, and the weapon was ready. 

And there was banging on the door. 

Yinsen flinched heavily, “Hide everything.” he ordered, before he opened the door and the men came rushing in, their rifles pointing at them. 

“What-What’s going on?” Tony asked, before two of the men were on him. He yelled in pain as they laid a swift blow to the back of his knee, making him kneel down. He felt the tell-tale sign of metal being pressed onto the back of his head, the gun loaded. 

~~~~~

Yinsen knew from the get-go that something would go wrong. Tragedy and chaos seemed to follow Tony Stark wherever he went and Yinsen wasn't exempt from that law of nature. 

So, when Tony came up with a plan, he had half a mind to rat him out, save himself from the torture of being caught, but he changed his mind once they talked and Yinsen learnt about Peter. Turns out Stark was a father, surprisingly, and the way he talked about his child made Yinsen’s heart ache. There was so much love yet so much pain behind his words. It was obvious that he cared for Peter, but there was something holding him back from fully accepting and loving his Son.

They spent a lot of time together, so Yinsen was able to figure out why. It’s because he was scared.

“That’s...normal Stark.” Yinsen said, as they worked on his invention one day, “you can be the most well-put together man out there, but parenthood is always scary. I can’t even begin to tell you how many sleepless nights I had before my daughter was born because of how much I would panic for the day she going to  _ be  _ born.” he paused, the memories fond, “But the minute I held her in my arms, all that fear just melted away. Because at that moment I knew, that I would give up everything I have to keep her safe and happy. And once you have that conviction, it isn't as scary anymore.”

“I guess…” Tony said, clearly not wanting to talk about it. But Yinsen knew the man understood what he was talking about, he just didn't want to admit it. 

Thankfully, that all changed as time went by. There wasn't any revelation, any near-death experiences, no epiphanies were had. Stark simply stopped kidding himself. Perhaps the reality that they probably wouldn't make it hit him and he realised that the only person who needed him, one who would genuinely feel his loss affect his entire life, was his son. So, Tony wanted to- no, needed to get out of here alive.

Yinsen was going to make sure that happened. 

So, when the terrorists came in, guns cocked and aimed, Yinsen knew they were caught. They somehow managed to figure out that they were planning on escaping and were now here to finish them off. 

Then pushed Yinsen off the ground, before they made him kneel down next to Stark. The leader of their group walked towards them, a heavy gait and a frown on his face. He spoke in Hindi, which Yinsen could understand. 

_ “How did you do it?” _ The man asked.

_ “Do what?” _ Yinsen replied.

_ “Get the military to track out location.” _ The man spat, a vein popping in his forehead,  _ “we just received word that their people are on route to this exact spot.” _

_ “We didn’t do anything! How could we? You keep a watch on us all the time.”  _ Yinsen reasoned.

_ “That’s right, we do.” _ the man said, before he hobbled over to their work desk to sift around their material and work sheets,  _ “And we’re not so stupid as to not realise that this isn’t the Jericho missile.” _

_ “Yes, it is. We’re almost done with it, see?” _ Yinsen gestured to the empty hollow casing of what could be a missile, made just in case these types of situations came up,  _ “It’s just taking longer because it’s only the two of us.” _

_ “You make a good point. _ ” he said, _ “But like you, I also have my orders, and I am supposed to kill you tonight.” _

_ “But the missile! You need us-” _

_ “I have another supplier.”  _ he cut off Yinsen,  _ “All I really needed from Stark was the blueprints,”  _ he picked up the sheets of paper,  _ “and the way to build and assemble it. Turns out Stark stores all his methods in his head, but with this, we can make our own.” _

He rolled up the paper and stuffed it in his jacket, “ _ Kill them, make it quick.”  _ he was by the door before he turned around and gave Tony a smile. Then he said, in English, “Obadiah Stane sends his regards.” he left, leaving the door open. 

Yinsen heard Tony gasp, the man’s eyes widening in realisation. Yinsen knew who Stane was, knew his history with the Starks. This couldn’t be an easy pill to swallow for Tony. But right now, it wasn’t the problem. 

Problem was that they were definitely going to die. Almost like time was now running in slow motion, Yinsen could see the soldier’s fingers grasping the trigger, about to let the bullets fly to their head. 

Yinsen didn’t think. He didn’t have time to think, his body just moved on instinct. Faster than he thought he was capable of moving, Yinsen braced his arm and brought it back, smashing his elbow into the man’s crotch. He yelled in pain as he doubled over, and Yinsen quickly grabbed his gun. A quick shot, the man with his gun on Stark was down, a bullet through his head. Yinsen sent another one through the head of the guy behind him, before pointing the weapon at the last man standing, the boss who came back to the room due to the commotion, who also had a gun pointing at him. 

_ “Put your gun down.” _ Yinsen demanded,  _ “Or I will kill you too.” _

_ “Tempting, but I’ll pass.”  _ a shot rang out, and a bullet welded itself into Yinsen’s side. He screamed in pain, dropping his own gun. He saw people being shot before, he shot people before, but nothing could have prepared him for the searing pain of the metal tearing through his flesh. He collapsed on the ground, waiting for the final bullet to end it all. He sent a silent apology to Stark, who he knew, would unfortunately suffer the same fate. 

“Stop.” 

Yinsen and the boss looked up, to see Tony, standing tall, chest puffed up, the detonator in his hand. All the commotion got their focus off of Stark who managed to grab the device.

“You shoot him again, nothing is going to stop me from blowing this place up, you hear me?” the man roared, “We rigged the entire place with explosives, so one wrong step could mean the end. I don’t care if I die here today, but there’s no way in hell am I letting you walk alive.”

The boss stared at him, then looked at Yinsen, awaiting translation but then realised that a hole in the stomach is a difficult problem that needed his full attention. 

Stark seemed to realise the dilemma as well and sighed. He held the detonator higher up, “Bomb. Everywhere. If I press this, everyone is dead.” that seemed to get the message across. 

“Oh.” the boss said, stretching out the word, “You threaten me?”

“I promise you.” Stark said, “You will die.”

The man nodded, before he aimed and fired at Stark, the bullet shooting through the man’s right arm, the one holding the detonator. Stark had a way with words, but words were useless here. At the end of the day, while he profited off of war, he wasn’t made to fight it. He was a helpless puppy in a sea of grown, rabies infested dogs who were all trained to rip apart and maim. So Stark might have had the upper hand, but he was too weak to grasp onto it. 

He cried out, a gut-wrenching scream, dropping the object. Luckily however, due to his performance, the boss’s eyes were off of Yinsen. 

He reached for his fallen gun and shot a whole bunch of bullets towards the enemy, not taking aim. The bullets smashed into lights, ricochet off the walls, blasted a hole through chairs and tables. The boss was too quick though, dodging the bullets before he ran out the room, shutting the door behind him. Yinsen could hear his cries, calling on more guards. The alarms immediately went off, the entire base notified of their attempt at mutiny. 

“Fuck.” Yinsen cursed, the pain of his wound coming back tenfold. He pressed his hand into it, pulling back to see every inch of his palm covered in blood. It was too deep a wound, too much blood loss. He wasn’t going to make it. 

A groan brought his attention back to the present. He looked beside him and saw Stark, sitting on the floor, cradling his injured arm. “Fuck.” he heard him curse. It made him smile. He wished he could have met the man under different circumstances, they might have become really good friends. But too bad, life doesn’t work that way. 

He grit his teeth, trying to not show his pain, while he limped towards the man.

“Can you walk Stark?” he asked. 

“Yes- fuck- yes, just give me a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute, we need to blow up the place, now.” he picked up the detonator and huddled over to the corner of the room, where they would be safe from the effects of the blast. He heard shuffling, before Stark was by his side, slinging an arm over his shoulder to help him walk. 

“Once that bomb is off,” Stark said, “we need to leave immediately, otherwise we’ll be buried in the rubble.”

“Five minutes, right?”

“Right. We need to be outside in five minutes.”

“You remember the way out?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Repeat it to me.”

“What? Why-”

“I said repeat it.”

A pause. “Out the door, two rights, straight until the third left, another left and then the fourth right. Passcode for the last door is 3317.”

Yinsen nodded, his breathing becoming heavier, “Put me down here.” Tony lowered him onto one of the chairs, “No time for resting.” Tony said, “We need to be ready to run.”

Yinsen chuckled and coughed as he retched out some blood. He let out a heavy sigh, “I’m not coming with you Stark.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No.” he gripped Tony’s hands, the detonator clasped in between “I won’t be able to make it. I can’t even walk, much less run, and you will die too if you drag me along.” his hands started to shake despite his best efforts, he could hear screaming from outside the room. They were coming, “Even if by some miracle I make it outside, their bullet hole will kill me.”

“But- no, it’s ok. I’ll think of something!”

“He said that military is on the way. Get out, you will find help.”

“Exactly!” Tony snapped, “Come with me, we can get you fixed up.”

“Shhhh.” Yinsen cooed, griping Tony’s shoulder, his wound already taking too much of a toll on him, “It’s ok. You and I both know that’s not going to work. Don’t get yourself killed for me, Stark.”

“Your family.” Tony said, with vigilance, “What about seeing your family again?”

Yinsen chuckled, blood filling his lungs. He couldn’t breathe anymore. “My family is already dead, Stark. I’m going to see them.” A final effort, “I want this.”

Yinsen pushed the button. 

The whole world fell silent as the ground rumbled underneath him. He saw the door of the room blast off its hinges, burning fire outside. Tony was yelling at him, but he couldn’t hear anything. He saw the man flinch, the air around him shimmering. It would make sense that the place would heat up like a furnace. But he couldn’t feel anything anymore. It’s a weird experience, noting the different ways in which your body was shutting down. 

Tony was still there, looking at him like a wounded puppy. The man was too emotional, a puppy among dogs. Yinsen hoped he would stay that way. 

Using his last amount of strength, he pulled his hands away from Tony, giving him the final signal to run, and get out. 

Tony grit his teeth, a tear falling from his eye, before he started to run. Yinsen watched him go, the man grabbing a rifle before he fled. Smart. In case he came across survivors. Hopefully he wouldn’t. 

_ Give Peter a big hug for me.  _

He closed his eyes, and smiled, his senses finally shutting down. 

Last thing he heard, was the gentle, yet adorable cries of joy of his daughter.

They finally see each other again.

~~~~~

Tony watched as the helicopter landed right in front of him. If the location they were given wasn’t enough, the burning base behind him was probably a good landmark.

His arm was bleeding, his skin red, bruised and burnt. His lungs were on fire and his feet were covered in warts, his shoes did nothing to protect him from burning rock. 

But he didn’t care. He felt numb, and guilty, and tired. So tired. 

So, he surprised himself when he started to laugh with pure joy and relief when he watched Rhodey jump off the helicopter and sprint towards him. Tony dropped the rifle from his hands, his fingers burnt from holding onto the scalding metal, before Rhodey came to his side, pulling him in for a hug. 

“Next time, you drive with me.” the man said, the happiness evident in his tone, “Let’s get you home Tony.”

~~~~~

Steve knew who Tony Stark was, of course he did, everyone did. A charismatic, egotistical, womaniser who was more arrogant than necessary. Steve never really liked him, thought he was too much. Who needed so much attitude? Couldn’t he dial it down a bit? 

But then he watched the man walk out of a burning terrorist base, alone, gun in hand, injured from head to toe but still broke out a laugh. Maybe he wasn’t as shallow as Steve assumed, he was. They got him into the helicopter as fast as possible, giving him the quickest and most immediate medical attention. Steve grimaced as he watched Stark’s hand get bandaged up. Luckily, it was just a flesh wound, nothing struck bone, but it was still bleeding heavily. Aside from that, there were several, bruises, cuts, burns, you name it. They made him take off his clothes, save for his boxers, and almost every inch of him needed some type of medical attention. These were only the physical wounds as well. Steve looked at his eyes and he knew, this was a man who went through hell and managed to walk out alive. He had to commend him for that. He knew that look, and the kind of trauma that follows it. It’s the same look his brother still has to this day.

Now, Steve was a man who experienced the effects of war, but not first-hand. His father had enlisted and never came back home. He wanted to be like his dad (aside from the killed in action part), a man who served his country, who helped the people, kept others safe. But when he was older, there was no war to be fought. He enlisted for the army anyway, but he changed his mind, when his brother Bucky enlisted first and told him that it would be more useful for Steve to become some other type of officer. So, he opted to be a police officer instead. As the years went by, he got more and more attention for his good work and strong as steel moral compass, that he eventually made his way to becoming one of the members of the FBI. 

He isn’t too modest to admit that he’s been through his fair share of trauma, deceit and blackmailing’s. A man of his position, he has met the worst of the worst. The most disgusting criminals, the most heighnous crimes, the most gut wrentching stories, but even he didnt have the look of defeat that Tony Stark seemed to have.

They were in the air for an hour before Steve introduced himself: “Mr.Stark, it’s good to meet you. My names is Agent Rogers.”

Tony simply gave him a blank stare from where he was lying down. 

“Mr Stark?”

Colonel Rhodes interrupted him from the side, “No point in talking to him now, Agent. He’s quite hopped up on pain killers, it’s a miracle he hasn’t passed out yet.”

Tony simply continued to stare, he eyes vacant. It was quite creepy. 

“Don’t worry.” Rhodes said, taking a seat beside Stark, “We’re taking you right to the hospital Tones, you’ll be good as new.”

Stark suddenly shot up, his arms reaching out to grab onto Rhodes, a desperate grip, his hands shaking. 

“No.” he rasped out, his eyes still vacant, “Home. Please.”

“Tony, its ok, just calm down.”

“Home. Peter.”

Peter? Wasn’t that the kid with Ben? He was a cute little thing, save for the look of panic on his face when he handed Steve the phone. _ Please save him _ , he had begged. 

Putting two and two together, Steve raised his eyebrows in shock. But honestly, Tony Stark having a secret child was probably not the craziest thing about today. 

“Ok, ok.” Rhodes consoled, “We’ll take you to Peter.”

Stark visibly sagged in releif, finally closing his eyes and passing out.

“...How much farther till the hospital?” Rhodes asked the pilot.

~~~~~

Tony got off the aircraft, biting down his groans. He didnt remember anything from the helicopter. All he remembered were his wounds being bandaged up and then being pumped with drugs. Next thing he knew, he was in the exact same state except, he was in a hospital, with his injuries properly bandaged up and pumped with better drugs. But despite doctors’ requests that he remain bedridden, he wanted- no, needed to get home.

Once he was out the private jet that dropped him home, he was met with more friendly faces than he deserved. He saw Pepper, May and Ben, all waiting for him. But most importantly, he saw Peter. 

The kid was clinging onto May’s leg, clearly nervous, but once he and Tony made eye contact, he saw his big brown eyes start to fill with tears.

It was like a chain reaction, Tony felt his own eyes well up, but he kept it together. He took a few steps out, his legs aching in pain from the still-healing burns.

Peter was the first one to move. All the adults were frozen in place, even the soldiers, almost like they were waiting for something to happen, but Peter simply let go of May and started running towards Tony, a few stray drops of tears leaving his eyes. 

Tony smiled, pushing his body to move forward, faster, but his legs gave out and he crumbled to the ground, safely on his knees. He took a second to collect himself, before Peter tackled into him.

“Dad!” Peter cried out, wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck, clutching onto him tightly, “You’re ok!” he sobbed, fat tears freely falling

“I’m ok baby.” Tony cooed, hugging Peter back with his good arm, trying to calm his cries, “I’m ok.” he ignored the pain that inflamed his body from the hug, he needed this.

“M-Mister Stane was a bad guy.” Peter hiccuped. 

Tony chuckled, the comment stabbing his heart. Rhodey explained everything that happened on the flight here. Turns out, Stane was in cahoots with the enemy, and that he had ordered a hit on Tony. Luckily, the bad guys saw him useful enough to keep alive, which was why they didnt kill him immediately. Stane’s private phone was handed over to the FBI, which had all the information, including Tony’s location, as well as a ton of other horrible, disgusting crimes he had commited. Basically, enough information that landed him in jail for a long, long, long ass time.

“Yeah he was. But its alright now.” Tony made Peter let go of him, before they were staring at each other eye to eye. Tony brought a hand up to wipe away the tears, smiling, “I heard you saved me, young man.”

Peter shook his head, “No, Uncle Ben and Mr.Rogers did.” he gestured to one of the soldiers. No, not soldier, agent. The Mr.Rogers was a buff blonde man sporting a suit. Quite handsome if he said so himself. Was he on the helicopter with him? Tony couldnt remember. He was giving the two of them a very fond look, a soft smile on his chiseled face. 

But Tony simply ignored him. “Don’t sell yourself short buddy, Rhodey told me what you did.” he said, bringing Peter in for another hug. “Thank you for saving me.”

He planted a kiss to Peter’s soft little cheek, his lips pressed on him for a few good seconds, before he peppered his whole face with kisses. Peter giggled and squirmed, Tony’s beard tickling him, laughing as Tony blew a few rasberries on his cheeks. He wrapped his tiny little arms around Tony again, burrying his face into Tony’s neck. 

“...Don’t leave me again.” Peter hiccuped after a few seconds of silence, his voice muffled, but audible.

“Never again.” Tony said, “I promise.”

 


End file.
